


Divine Child

by lilyseyes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bonding, Chan, Complete, M/M, Ritual Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 02:29:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 27,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2371124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilyseyes/pseuds/lilyseyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of Chamber of Secrets, Harry gets help from the last person he would have ever expected. Complete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

  
Divine Child by [lilyseyes](http://www.walkingtheplank.org/archive/viewuser.php?uid=776)  


  
Summary: In the aftermath of Chamber of Secrets, Harry gets help from the last person he would have ever expected.  
Categories: Fanfiction Characters:  Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter, Severus Snape  
Genres:  AU  Magical, Drama, First Time, Romance  
Spoilers:  COS, PS/SS  
Warnings:  Chan 13-15, Hurt/Comfort, Rimming  
Challenges: None  
Series: Santas Lap 2007  
Chapters:  3 Completed: Yes   
Word count: 27785 Read: 30867  
Published: Jan 02, 2008 Updated: Jan 07, 2008 

Story Notes:

Written for the santas_lap Chan Fest at insanejournal **Prompt:** #125:Dumbledore tells Severus to mentor Harry. Severus interprets that according to an ancient practice that Muggles would never understand. (Rakina)  
 **Disclaimer:** JKR owns all that is the Potter Universe– I just play in it. No money is made from these amateur works.  
 **Betas:** Rakina and jadzia7667, all my thanks, the_minx_17 and calanor, thanks for the feedback!

Chapter 1 by lilyseyes

Stepping into the Great Hall, Severus Snape eyed the tables filled with pajama-clad students with disgust. The celebratory feast was well underway, but Severus had refused to present himself in his nightclothes, taking the time to wash and dress in his usual impeccable black robes. Robes billowing behind him, he strode to the vacant seat at Albus Dumbledore’s left, ignoring the garish nightshirt and robe the elderly wizard was wearing as he reached for the teapot.

“Good morning, Severus.”

“Welcome back, Headmaster,” Severus acknowledged as he blew across his tea. “Am I to assume that the imbecile is once again a hero, thanks to your timely intervention, no doubt?”

“Actually,” Dumbledore replied mildly, “Gilderoy has been transferred to St. Mungo’s Spell Damage ward. It seems his attempt at a memory charm went awry.”

Severus almost spat his tea across the table. This year’s excuse for a Defense teacher was a pompous idiot who couldn’t hex his way out of the loo, but Severus had assumed Albus had returned in time to assure the rescue of the youngest Weasley. Severus had been dispatched to the infirmary as soon as the Mandrake Draught had been ready, spending most of his night seeing to those who had been petrified.

“And the girl?” Severus had to ask, noting the absence of the selfsame redhead.

“Young Harry retrieved her from the Chamber of Secrets after slaying the basilisk inside,” Dumbledore’s voice was pitched low, the tone smug.

The Potions master choked on the tea he’d just managed to swallow, his eyes jerking again to the Gryffindor table. The Boy Who Lived sat between his two best friends, looking decidedly bedraggled. While his classmates laughed and joked, Potter picked at the food on his plate, looking up occasionally with a false smile pasted on his face. Granger seemed no worse for wear for her stay in the hospital wing, and Weasley looked tired but exuberant. The youngest Weasley son must have shared in Potter’s latest adventure, Severus thought sourly, watching the boy gesture wildly, ensuring all eyes were focused on him.

The Potter boy was even more an enigma to Severus after the events this past year, despite the inauspicious way he had started the term. The discovery that he was a Parselmouth had sparked wild rumors, making Potter the center of attention once again. But instead of preening as his father would have done, the boy had become withdrawn and quiet. It had been as if he were embarrassed by the fuss, in much the way Lily would have reacted. As the term progressed, Potter had paled at the mere mention of Lockhart, and it seemed as if the buffoon had created more havoc for the boy at every opportunity.

Severus shot a look at the Headmaster, taking in the superior expression on his face and chose his next words carefully. “The boy managed to open the Chamber with only a Weasley for help,” he said in a scornful tone.

There was a flash of annoyance across the usually jovial face at Severus’ question, but the Headmaster quickly schooled his features. “Actually, Harry accomplished it on his own, my dear boy, and fought the basilisk as well as Tom Riddle to save young Ginevra.”

A frown creased his forehead. “Tom Riddle?”

“Yes,” Dumbledore stroked his beard, “the essence of his sixteen-year-old self preserved in his diary. It was an artifact Lucius Malfoy had apparently had in his possession for many years.”

Before Severus could ask any more, screams and shouting erupted from the Gryffindor table. Albus Dumbledore leapt to his feet, towering over Severus as they both watched Minerva McGonagall make her way from the High Table. Pushing her way through the throng of pajama-clad students, the Deputy Headmistress managed to scatter the tight circle that stood in her way. The other Houses were craning their necks to try and see what was going on, and the noise level in the huge hall rose to almost unbearable levels.

“ _Silence!_ ” Albus Dumbledore’s amplified voice cut through the clamor.

George Weasley stepped forward and Severus was hard pressed not to gasp with the rest of the spectators. In his arms was a small, dark-haired toddler whose bright green eyes were wide with fear. A jumper soiled with dried blood was wrapped around him, and he clutched tightly at a pair of round spectacles. It was Harry Potter. Tears streamed down the child’s face, but he did not make a sound as he was swept away by Poppy Pomfrey. It took several minutes for the Heads of House to calm their students and Severus frowned as he heard the Headmaster whisper an incantation into the stunned silence which would make it impossible for any of them to talk about what they had seen.

~~~ * ~ * ~~~

The Hogwarts Express departed at noon with its full compliment of students and with a sigh of relief, Severus made his way back into the castle. Minerva McGonagall was pacing the Entrance Hall when he stepped through the great oak doors, the fierce expression on her face making him pause.

“Minerva, you look exceedingly grim for the last day of term.”

She sent him a glare. “Albus would like a word with us in his office, Severus.”

Puzzled by both the summons and his colleague’s demeanor, Severus followed her to the gargoyle and up the turning staircase. The door opened to reveal Albus Dumbledore sitting behind his desk, his large maroon quill moving rapidly over a piece of parchment. Seated silently on the floor in front of the desk was a dark-haired toddler who seemed impossibly small for his age. Dressed in a miniature version of his normal Hogwarts uniform, Potter looked up for an instant as they stepped into the room, his emerald eyes huge in his pale, thin face, before darting back down to fix on the hands clasped in his lap. Minerva hesitated for an instant, as if considering acknowledging the boy, but instead moved on into the office and took one of the chairs.

“Albus, are you certain…”

“I am, Minerva,” Dumbledore’s tone was sharp as he looked at her over the top of his half-moon spectacles, “Severus, my boy, thank you for coming.”

Nothing good would come out of this meeting, if the solicitous tone was any indication. Reinforcing his Occlumency barriers, Severus inclined his head.

“Headmaster, how may I be of service?” He raised one eyebrow in question.

“As you can see, young Mr. Potter has experienced a bit of a transformation and although Poppy believes he will return to his correct age over the summer holidays, it would not have been prudent to allow him to go home on the Hogwarts Express. Both Minerva and I must remain here to be available to the Minister of Magic as he conducts an inquiry over recent events.”

Nodding, Severus had to physically clamp his jaws together to keep from snarling as he knew what was coming.

“As you are headed to London anyway to start your own holidays, I would appreciate it if you would drop Harry off in Surrey on your way.”

“Certainly, Headmaster,” Severus almost choked on the expected reply, “but can you tell me exactly what happened to Potter?”

The clear blue eyes never even looked at the child. “Apparently Harry was bitten by a basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets when he retrieved Miss Weasley early this morning, and then saved from the venom by Fawkes’ tears. While at the feast this morning, the Weasley twins thought it would be entertaining to add Shrinking Solution to the pumpkin juice. They started with young Harry’s goblet.”

Severus blinked, his thoughts darting from the impossibility of anyone surviving an encounter with a basilisk, to the little that was known of the effect of basilisk venom and phoenix tears combined with Shrinking Solution and succeeded in giving himself the start of a headache behind his right eye. The Headmaster nattered on about Pomfrey’s belief that the child would spontaneously change back into the arrogant, insolent student that Severus was familiar with. Silently disagreeing with that assumption, Severus brought the older man back into focus.

“I have sent an owl ahead to explain the situation to his relatives, Severus, so all you will have to do is deposit Harry on their doorstep in Surrey.” Dumbledore waved his hand and a small red ball appeared on his desk. “This is a portkey to an alleyway near the home and you can surely Apparate from there to Cornwall, my boy.”

Severus frowned; he was to literally dump the child on a doorstep? “Where might I find Potter’s trunk, Headmaster?”

Albus Dumbledore studied his face, eyes narrowing suspiciously, as if he had expected Severus to whinge and complain. A smirk curled one corner of Severus’ mouth; it was not often he was able to beat the Headmaster at his own game. He leaned over to pick up the red ball from the desk, and it slipped in into his pocket. A glance at Minerva McGonagall caught an almost pleading look as her eyes darted between himself and the boy and Severus realized that his colleague didn’t agree with what the Headmaster was doing. The normally outspoken witch was curiously silent, making Severus wonder whether she had been told to refrain from speaking or charmed not to be able to do so.

“I have had the house-elves move it to your rooms, Severus. Harry’s owl will remain here for the summer as he will not need her.”

Severus nodded and looked down at the small child. “Come along, Potter, and do try to keep up.”

The boy looked up at the sound of his name, scrambling to his feet as Severus inclined his head at Minerva McGonagall as he flashed her what he hoped was a reassuring glance.

“Enjoy your holidays, Minerva,’ Severus told her before sketching a short bow toward Dumbledore. “Headmaster, I will see you in a month or so.”

Severus turned abruptly and exited the office in a billow of robes, the small child scrambling to keep up. As Severus stalked down towards the dungeons, his heels tapped out his displeasure in his assignment yet his mind was already circling around the facts that had necessitated it. The basilisk venom should have been neutralized by the healing properties of the Phoenix tears, except for the conflicting magic residual from each of the powerful magical creatures. Was it this residue that interacted with the Shrinking Solution to produce such an extreme de-aging effect, or was it perhaps one of the individual ingredients - the daisy root, leech juice, or rat spleen - which had accelerated the effect? Depending on the degree of interaction, and the amount of both tears and venom left in the boy’s body at the time of ingestion, it could be more like months before the Headmaster’s Golden Boy was restored to his proper age.

Severus stopped in his tracks. Albus Dumbledore was not a stupid man; he had to have already worked out these facts himself! The wizard who had discovered the twelve uses of dragon’s blood had the potions background to understand the intricate interaction of the combination the boy had been subjected to – especially the properties of the tears from his own familiar! Surely Dumbledore had reached the conclusion that without intervention the boy’s de-aging could become permanent! It was not likely that Potter’s Muggle relatives would concern themselves with the proper treatment, even if they could comprehend what had happened.

Looking behind him with a frown, Severus saw an empty hallway. With a flare of irritation, he walked back down towards the Potions classroom. So intent on his thoughts, Severus didn’t hear the approaching footsteps as a small body impacted against his legs. Seizing the boy instinctively, Severus was surprised by the thinness of the child’s shoulders and then further astounded as Potter wrenched away from him, scurrying backwards. Baffled, Severus recognized the reaction as one of a child who expected to be struck. Wide, frightened eyes watched his every move and Severus found himself questioning the Headmaster’s assertion that Harry retained his full faculties in his de-aged body. The child appeared to be just what he looked like: a terrified three year old.

Biting off a sigh, Severus slowly extended his hand. “Come along, Po…Harry. We must get ready to leave.”

Potter looked nervously between Severus’ face and his hand, as if to gauge whether it was safe – something Severus never would have expected for a child of this one’s pampered upbringing. Tentatively, the child slipped his fingers into the waiting hand and Severus was surprised by how cold they were. Turning, this new puzzle piece added to the others swirling in his head, Severus started down the hallway at his normal pace, until he noticed Potter had to run to keep up. As he slowed, the child stumbled and Severus used the hand he held to swing Harry up into his arms. The boy stiffened as Severus held him awkwardly, almost as if Harry had never been picked up and was not sure how to position himself.

Picking up his pace once again, Severus’ steps faltered slightly as he ran a hand over the thin back, realizing just how light the boy was. His fingers encountered every vertebra and each rib under the thin robes Harry wore. Was this truly the state the child had been in at three years old? Harry Potter had never seemed the sickly type and should have been a solid, sturdy toddler. A frown etched into his forehead as Severus stepped into his rooms. He noted that the boy’s trunk had been delivered as he carefully set Harry onto his feet and studied the thin face. Harry shifted under his gaze and Severus realized it was from more than his scrutiny.

“This way, Potter!” Severus snapped, his tone harsher than he had intended, but he felt like he needed to put distance between them.

An appalling thought occurred to him – was the child even toilet trained? Harry certainly seemed to have lost the use of his voice! Severus opened the door to the loo and ushered him inside. Keeping his eyes on the top of the messy raven hair, he waited for Potter to unfasten his trousers, but the child just stood looking at the toilet. Leaning down, Severus reached to do it for him and Harry flinched away violently.

“No! Please don’t!” The boy cried, his hands pushing against Severus’ wrist.

Horrified, the direst of thoughts flashing though his mind, Severus found himself kneeling on the floor, one hand cupping the quivering chin to bring the green eyes up to meet his. His other hand splayed over the child’s back in an effort to be reassuring, but also to keep Harry from running from him.

“I may be many things, but I am not a man who hurts small children, Harry. I simply want you to use the loo so we can leave, understand?”

The dark head nodded, but Severus continued to hold the emerald eyes until he saw calmness return. With his hands on Harry’s shoulders, Severus turned him toward the toilet and stood, turning his back on the boy as he heard the tinkling sound of success. Movement at his side drew his eyes back to the top of the messy mop of hair as the child stopped beside him. Wondering at the safety of using Legilimency on a de-aged mind, Severus careful lowered his hand to the dark head and gently laid it on the soft curls for a moment. He truly hoped that Harry’s reaction was due to something other than abuse, as it did not fit the image Severus had of the Boy Who Lived, nor did he believe any child should be subject to cruelty. Especially the child Severus had vowed to protect so many years ago.

It would have to wait, however, as the ball in the pocket of his robes heated in warning. Retracting his hand, Severus stepped around the small boy and was surprised when Harry reached up to take his hand. The emerald eyes looked at him with a mixture of apprehension and trust, an odd combination for one so young. Perhaps, if Harry did not have access to his memories, he at least remembered enough to tell him Severus was someone he could place his faith in.

“Come along, Harry, the portkey is about to activate.”

Leading the boy back into his sitting room, Severus removed the ball from his pocket and held it out to the child. “Touch the ball, Harry, so that we can get on with it.”

His own trunk had already been removed for delivery to the small cottage he had rented for the next month and Severus grasped the handle of Potter’s as the ball began to glow blue. The child wrapped an arm around his leg, clearly fearful of the ball that he could not let go of as the familiar tugging began at his navel. Severus glimpsed renewed terror in the emerald eyes and frowned. Had the boy never traveled by portkey before?

Harry clung to Severus as they twirled, landing with a jolt in a shadowy alley. Casting a See Me Not charm on the trunk, Severus transfigured his outer robes into a frock coat and Harry’s to a jumper. Levitating the trunk behind him, Severus led the way past the unremarkable row of Muggle houses as he readily found Privet Drive, just what he would have expected of Lily’s sister. The children playing on the street and the homeowners working outside paid no attention to either of them and Harry never looked up at any of them. Stopping at the end of the path to Number 4, Harry gripped the hand he held with a desperate strength which drew a frown from Severus.

The boy’s reaction to coming home was all wrong, Severus thought, especially to the place were he was pampered and adored. The incident in the bathroom flashed through his mind, and Severus found himself curious, remembering how Petunia had bragged about her beau the last time Severus had seen her. The thin, horse-faced girl had always been jealous of her sister. Lily Evans had been beautiful, gregarious, and kind to everyone, even the greasy little oddball Severus had been when he first met her. She had been his one and only, his best friend. One would think that her sister, Petunia, having suffered the loss of a sibling, had pampered the boy she had taken in after Lily died, making him the arrogant student Severus knew at Hogwarts. The terror was back in the green eyes as the child hesitated as they approached the door, resignation and defeat dulled their luster.

Severus tugged the boy forward impatiently and rapped on the door. A tall woman with beady eyes and a long raw-boned face opened the door, Petunia Evans hadn’t changed. Her eyes roamed over Severus without recognition, before darting down to Harry. A look of pure loathing flashed across the woman’s features as she took in the small child now clinging to his leg.

“In with you before the neighbors see you, boy,” Lily’s sister said in a cold voice. “You know where to go.”

With visible reluctance, Harry let go of his trousers. Large eyes flicked up at him as if for one last look, before he shuffled forward toward the open door. With a flex of his wrist, Severus had his wand in his hand to remove the charm on Harry’s trunk. The woman jumped, screeching as her eyes caught sight of the slender length of wood in his hand. Harry stumbled as he crossed the threshold, his already pale face turning white. There was a heavy pounding of feet and a massive shape filled the doorway, sending the boy spinning into the room behind him. The Muggle male whom Severus decided must be the woman’s husband was purple-faced and sputtering; his multiple chins appeared to be shaking with rage.

Ignoring the indecipherable bellowing that erupted from the huge man, Severus levitated the trunk through the doorway, pushing the Muggles to the side. Stepping inside the residence a frisson of something danced over his skin, making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Turning, Severus spotted Harry standing, a tremble visible in his thin form as he stood in front of an open cupboard under the staircase. Severus frowned, but levitated the trunk inside the cupboard while the boy’s uncle blustered in the background.

“…unnatural!! Get out of my home! I will NOT have the likes of your kind…”

Severus barely contained the urge to roll his eyes, turning to address the angry woman standing next to the staircase. “I am assuming the letter Professor Dumbledore sent to you has explained the situation. You are to contact him directly if there is a need for assistance during the holidays or if anything manifests itself due to Potter’s current…condition.”

Not allowing himself another look at the child, Severus swept past the still frothing Muggle and stepped outside. The door slammed behind him, the glass rattling in the window frame, halting Severus steps. He hesitated for a second, before continuing to walk briskly back toward the alley they had appeared in. The boy was no longer his concern and while the two people he had just left Harry with did not appear to hold him, or anything magical, in great regard, they must still have the familial love for the boy they had raised. Surely Petunia’s childhood hatred of magic disappeared as she matured. The woman had taken the child in to raise as her own, after all.

Severus had not made it down the length of the path before something had him turning around, his instincts screaming at him. He could feel the powerful magic in the protective fields surrounding the house that kept the Boy Who Lived safe from Dark magic and the wizards who practiced it. Yet, there was something worse than Dark in that house, something that felt evil lurked inside it. As Severus debated his course of action, the angry sound of a raised voice reached him and his wand was in his hand.

“…little freak! How dare you come back here in the middle of the day, waltzing in the front door where the neighbors could see you! Abnormal excuse for…”

With a bang, Severus blasted the front door open, actually hoping that there was a neighbor or three lurking about in the bushes. Stepping inside, he saw the large pig of a Muggle holding the child off the floor with a meaty hand fisted in the front of Harry’s shirt. The boy was being shaken violently, blood was trickling from his nose and a red mark darkened his cheek. The bastard continued to scream insults in the child’s face, Lily’s sister screeching as she stood next to the stairs.

“Stupefy!” Severus snarled at her, sending her crashing to the ground, before turning. “Petrificus Totalus!”

Dursley froze and slowly toppled over; Severus lunged forward to grab Harry before the boy was crushed under the obese pig. Harry clung to his neck, hot tears dampening his coat and Severus awkwardly wrapped his left arm around the silent, trembling form. Magically binding the Muggles with a whispered incantation, Severus levitated them onto the sofa in the unnaturally clean sitting room. He loomed over the two cowering lumps of flesh, pleased beyond measure to see a dark stain spread across the front of Dursley’s trousers. Severus could feel his face twist with disgust, the long strands of his hair swirled around his shoulders as his crackling magic surged and he could feel Harry’s magic pulse between them.

For a moment, Severus stood over them, waiting until Petunia met his eyes. “You were always a jealous, hateful bitch, Petunia, but to treat Lily’s son in such a manner is reprehensible.”

His voice was pitched low and Severus felt a certain satisfaction as the woman’s eyes widened in recognition. “You remember, I am delighted,” Severus sneered, “and I promise you that you will never forget me again.”

Splaying his hand across the back of the child who clung desperately to him, Severus quickly ran through his options. He certainly could not leave the boy to the mercy of these monsters; Harry would not survive the holidays. There was only one acceptable option for either of them. Summoning the child’s school trunk, Severus was inordinately pleased that it took a chunk of wall with it went it came out of the cupboard under the stairs. Eying the pair of terrified Muggles, Severus knew he had to be careful and creative in hexing them, but then, a diarrhea curse combined with one to produce painful pustules was always effective. The hugely obese Dursley would surely appreciate the curse that made everything he ate taste like dirt.

 

Retracing their steps back to the alleyway, Severus carefully soothed a hand over the tousled curls on Harry’s head, wondering absently how he managed to get himself into _this_ predicament. The arms encircling his neck tightened fractionally, before Harry lifted his head, one side of his face beginning to bruise along the cheekbone and around his eye. The eye had already begun to swell shut. Swearing under his breath, Severus transfigured the red ball into a soft cloth. He set the child down and knelt beside him, seething at his own ignorance and reverse-prejudice.

Severus knew he had seen what he wanted to see in the actions of a scared, abused little boy the past two years. Had taken the boy’s self-defensive mannerisms as arrogance and had expected him to be conceited and prideful, because of his father. He had loathed the boy before he had ever met him for things that the child was not guilty of, nor responsible for. In particular, for the sacrifice of his mother while Harry escaped alive. Something tightened in his chest.

_“Aguamenti!”_

Wetting the cloth with the water from his wand, Severus carefully cleared the blood off of Harry’s face. He had had little experience with young children in recent years and only vague memories of his mother when she had been gentle and loving, before his father had beaten the love out of her. The task of caring for a child had always struck him as tedious but necessary and one that did not require a great deal of skill. For all he had misjudged Harry Potter, the child seemed cooperative and quiet enough.

“It would appear that we have little option but for you to come with me, Harry.”

The emerald eyes looked up at him solemnly, what looked like a glimmer of hope lit in their depths and Harry nodded hesitantly. Severus brushed the fringe back from Harry’s forehead, tracing a finger alongside his scar with a frown before covering it up again. Transfiguring the damp cloth into a black cap, Severus set it on Harry’s head, tugging it down firmly over his forehead. That would have to do for now, Severus thought as he returned his robes to their original state with a flick of his wand.

Carefully gathering Harry back into his arms, Severus stood up and had to wait a moment for the stiff little body to relax against him. Now Severus realized that Harry couldn’t remember ever being held by an adult, nor the love his mother lavished on her baby. Sadness twisted in him as Severus settled the child against the front of him, his left arm supporting his arse.

“We will be riding a lurid purple bus designed by a lunatic to test the inertia tolerance of wizards, but it is the only manner of conveyance available which will get us to our destination in a fairly anonymous way. Please hold on to me and don’t speak to anyone,” Severus said, relieved when the boy nodded again before hesitantly threading his arms around Severus’ neck.

Thrusting his wand out and up, the Potions master took a hurried step back, just as the Knight Bus materialized with a bang at the entrance to the alley. Harry flinched at the noise, burying his face in Severus’ neck but never looking up. An ancient wizard stumbled from the bus, he was thin and his back bent with age.

“Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transportation for the stranded witch or wizard, I am Sidney Shunpike…

Silencing the old man with a sneer, Severus levitated Harry’s trunk on to the bus, stepping in behind it. “Cornwall,” he sneered as he handed the conductor their fares. “Teeter Square, Altarnun.”

Only his natural agility allowed them to make it to one of the beds before the deathtrap masquerading as a conveyance leapt forward with a bang. Harry’s arms tightened into a stranglehold as the frightened toddler hung on without a whimper, and Severus managed to sprawl across it with as much dignity as possible. There were no other passengers that he could see, much to his relief, and Severus soothed Harry as best as he could. Admonishing the little boy not to close his eyes or it would only get worse, Severus rummaged around in his potions kit for an anti-nausea potion. Harry drank the potion without protest, but seemed unable to hide a grimace at the taste.

“M’sorry,” Harry muttered as he stared at the garish quilt they were sitting on, dragons and unicorns of unimaginable colors frolicked in a wooded glen.

Severus sneered at the quilt but the moving animals paid him no heed and continued to cavort. Settling back, he allowed Harry to continue to cling to him as Severus did his best to keep them on the bed. The bus made two stops, once to let a green-looking hag off after she stumbled down the stairs and another to allow a harried looking witch with two small children to get on. The trio managed to make it up the stairs before the bus lurched forward again. For Severus it brought back memories of his own childhood, when his mother had taken him to visit his relatives. Getting away from his overbearing father had always made the holiday special, added to that was the excitement of going on the Knight Bus and visiting his magical relations. It was also the place where he learned his first magic, a nasty boil hex from his Prince cousins. His mother hadn’t been happy when Severus had shown her. Severus had been seven.

With another bang, the Knight Bus screeched to a halt on the shady side of a small square. Lifting the boy up, Severus made his way off the bus as Harry’s trunk was being wrestled to the ground by the ancient conductor. Stepping down into the watery June sunlight, Severus dismissed the old man with a curt nod and waited for the purple monstrosity to disappear with yet another bang.

Recasting the spells to camouflage the trunk, Severus settled the child on his feet, frowning as Harry swayed slightly. Potter had better not be ill, he thought crossly, realizing suddenly that he had committed himself to being solely responsible for the boy’s welfare. Severus frowned. He had enough to do without mollycoddling a sick toddler.

“Come along!” Severus snapped, levitating the trunk behind him.

 

This neighborhood in the south of Cornwall consisted mostly of wizarding folk and the cottage he had rented belonged to an elderly witch who kept it for her relatives to use when they visited. It was the last house on the tree lined street, backing up to the very forest which contained the magical herbs Severus needed to harvest for his research. The child fell behind immediately, but Severus didn’t slow his pace. It was a straight path to the cottage, he reasoned, the boy couldn’t get lost. Severus ignored a pang of guilt, Potter was simply de-aged and not truly a three-year-old. After all, Tobias Snape had never gone out of his way to accommodate Severus when he was…

Horror struck him at the thought of parenting any child by his father’s example and Severus stopped suddenly. Turning, he saw the youngster running towards him, face flushed and breathing heavily. Harry’s eyes were focused on the ground in front of him with one hand clutched against his ribs, no doubt due to a stitch. Smothering a sigh, Severus caught the boy by the shoulder and halted his movement gently. He allowed Harry to slump against him as the child struggled to get his breathing under control, his chest heaving with exertion. It took only a moment for Harry to straighten and step away, fearful eyes darting up once before focusing on the ground again. The child was afraid Severus would leave him behind he realized, and suppressed another sigh.

“We are going to the small stone cottage with the green shutters just ahead, Harry.”

The child glanced up and nodded, a shy smile turning up the corners of his lips, the bruise now highly visible along his cheek. He trudged ahead as Severus followed behind at a more leisurely pace. After having been up most of the night, neither had had the opportunity to rest before setting out on this adventure, Severus considered as the door to the cottage opened at his touch.

The inside was clean and neat, the furniture was worn but serviceable and the wood gleamed in the late afternoon sunshine pouring in the windows. He settled the boy’s trunk in the corner of the only bedroom, and his thoughts turned to the kitchen and pantry which he knew would be fully stocked. Harry should have no problem sleeping on the settee in the sitting room at his current size, Severus reasoned, and there should even be books and toys for children of various ages tucked into a corner of the bookshelves for the owner’s grandchildren. Severus was still unsure of how much of his memories Harry had access to at this point.

“This will be where we are staying for the next several weeks, Mr. Potter. You will be sleeping on the couch here in the sitting room. I will be occupying the bedroom, but we will put your trunk in here due to space constraints,” Severus told him briskly. “I believe you will find age-appropriate items on the lower shelf of the bookshelves with which to amuse yourself while I am busy, but I do expect you to tidy up after yourself as there are no house-elves in residence.”

Harry blinked up at him, his eyes impossibly green without the usual thick glasses obscuring them, and nodded quickly. Severus turned as he began to unbutton his robes. He didn’t need the heavy outer robes in the warm cottage and never did any serious brewing in the flowing garments. The child watched with wide eyes, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Biting his lip, Harry appeared to be waging some type of internal battle and Severus watched the expressive face, not even trying to help the boy as he tried to gauge whether Harry retained his twelve year old memories or not.

“Sir?” the young voice quivered, “please…the loo?”

Silently, Severus pointed at the door between the kitchen and the bedroom before walking into the latter. Divesting himself of his robes and waistcoat, Severus was pleased to find his personal effects had already been put away. It would mean the same Hogwarts house-elf who had assisted Severus before had been assigned to transport his belongings and his lab would be set up in the basement just as he liked it. Severus could start work immediately. The research he had spent the past two years working on should bring a significant improvement to the Wolfsbane Potion.

His mind already immersed in his research, Severus rolled up the sleeves of his white button down shirt as he moved towards the kitchen. The lingering suspicion resurfaced as to why Albus Dumbledore was so keen on him spending his summer working on the complex potion. His last summer holidays had been taken up with various errands and duties the Headmaster could trust no one else with doing, especially when he assisted in destroying the Sorcerer’s Stone. A great chunk of time had been spent researching Dark curse scars and various immortality spells. Added to that had been Lucius Malfoy’s condescending summons under the guise of improving the Slytherin Quidditch team. Pompous prat! Malfoy had been more interested in finding out what Dumbledore’s involvement was in the raids for Dark artifacts the Ministry was undertaking, than in Hogwarts’ House Cup. Severus snorted at the memory, as if Malfoy was worried when he had that fool Fudge in his pocket!

Pushing the stray thoughts to the back of his mind, Severus concentrated on the matter at hand. The cottage was in a quiet valley near Bodmin Moor and sat at the edge of a magical forest. There, Severus could harvest the Wolfsbane by hand when the full moon reached its apex tomorrow night. The plant had to be prepared immediately and the potion started without delay in order for it to produce the optimum results. It was the intricate blending of the essence of Silver Agave and the Wolfsbane into the base that would better ensure the drinker’s sanity on the night of the next full moon.

Retrieving his journal from the pocket of his robes, Severus was already flipping through the pages as he walked through the sitting room. A quickly muffled cough reminded him that he was not alone as he looked up to see Harry attempting to make himself small as he sat on the floor under the window. Harry had found a book and had shed the miniature robes he had been wearing. The black cap on his head shadowed his face.

“Do not move,” Severus told him, affixing a scowl. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

The child nodded, visibly relaxing and went back to the book. Severus descended into the cool basement and checked over his lab, assuring himself that the house-elves had laid everything out properly. Severus was pleased to find, like the bedroom, the potions lab was exactly as he liked it. With no need to rearrange his stores, Severus prepared three cauldrons of the base he would need for brewing the different variations of the Wolfsbane Potion the next night. Setting the flames low enough just to keep them just at the simmering point, Severus cleaned up the work bench, finishing as his stomach rumbled a reminder that it was past teatime.

As he was coming to expect, Harry had followed his instructions to a fault and was in exactly the same place Severus had left him several hours before, although the child had a now-familiar look of anxiety as Severus stepped out of the stairwell. He helped the child stand and sent him to the loo with a stern look, before making his way to the kitchen. A simple meal of cold chicken sandwiches, cheese and fruit was filling. Harry had looked tentatively at the plate Severus set in front of him, as if he was unsure whether he was allowed to eat and had to make sure it was actually for him. Harry made no complaints at having to drink weak tea instead of juice or at having a sliced apple for pudding. Severus was left to speculate again on what had happened in the past at the house on Privet Drive as the boy ate everything he was given quickly and silently, never asking for more.

Harry’s vocabulary also seemed limited to polite responses and inquires, nothing like the insolent cheek Severus had come to expect from the twelve-year-old Harry Potter. Just which child was the true representation of this boy, Severus wondered, as he got ready for bed that evening. Having silently helped clear away the dishes after dinner, Harry had returned to his seat on the floor in the corner of the sitting room and promptly fallen asleep. Stripping the child to his underwear, Severus had tucked him onto the small couch with a warm quilt, ignoring the urge to examine the several scars he saw crisscrossing the small back. The discrepancies in his perceptions of exactly who and what Harry Potter were a distraction at the moment and Severus could not afford to be distracted until after the full moon. He tucked them into a corner of his mind as Severus slipped tiredly into bed.

A shrill scream woke him and Severus lay for a moment in the unfamiliar darkness trying to remember where he was. Another cry of anguish rang out and Severus kicked the bedding aside. Snatching up his wand, Severus lit the tip as he dashed into the sitting room. The sight of the settee and a section of the bookshelves floating off the floor stopped him in the doorway. The crackle of magic permeated the room.

“No, Tom! Please, my wand…”

The pleading had ended in a shrill cry of pain, propelling Severus forward. He could feel the waves of desperate magic radiating off the toddler who writhed on the floating couch in the throes of his nightmare. Staggered by the power he felt emanating from the young child; Severus pressed down on the couch and sat, unsure how to proceed. Suddenly, Harry arched up, his mouth open in a silent scream of terror. Severus reached to touch his arm, but Harry flung himself away.

“No! Don’t hurt her! Fawkes!”

Harry was crying hard, clearly terrorized. Severus dropped his wand on the couch and grabbed the struggling child, pulling Harry to his bare chest. Skin met skin and a flash of white light sent a shock through Severus, but the child instantly quieted, wrapping his arms and legs tightly around the Potions master. Deep sobs still wracked the tiny body and Severus instinctively rocked side to side, something he dimly remembered his mother doing to calm him when he was a child. His chest tingled in the area where Harry was pressed against it but the wild swirling magic calmed as the child did and Harry’s sobs tapered off into soft, hiccupping sounds. Using one arm looped under the boy’s bottom to support him, Severus used the other to stroke his fingers down the small back. His fingertips brushed over the thin scars he had seen earlier that evening and his suspicions about their origin were confirmed. Severus had the same type of scars on his own back, courtesy of his father.

“T’ank you,” was muttered into the juncture of neck and shoulder and Severus surprised himself by allowing a smile to curve his lips.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Severus asked softly.

“Snake bite me,” Harry muttered sleepily, “big snake…”

The boy’s entire body shuddered and Severus frowned as he realized Harry’s skin felt warmer than it should. He couldn’t help but wonder what the residual effects of basilisk venom might be, but as he had never read of the poison’s properties, let alone heard of anyone ever surviving a bite, Severus was at a loss. Add to that the lack of knowledge of the properties of Phoenix tears, the infinite variables of a student produced potion like the Shrinking Solution, and the combination was extremely worrisome, Severus thought. How could Albus Dumbledore have even thought to send this child home to his Muggle relatives? Even if they had cared what had happened to Harry, they had no way to contact anyone if the child had become ill!

As soon as he completed the more delicate tasks that evening for the Wolfsbane, Severus vowed he would start researching Harry’s predicament. There had to be something written about the tears and the venom, even if nothing was known about their interaction. That burst of uncontrolled magic was worrisome, especially as it had radiated from the body of a sleeping three year old. The standard instances of accidental magic in a child that young were limited to summoning toys that were being denied or banishing unwanted vegetables from their dinner plates, simple magic easily associated with the desires of a young mind. There were isolated instances of higher magic in young children under extreme stress, such as spontaneous Apparation or self-healing abilities, but this did not seem to fit the circumstances.

The idea that the boy’s situation would resolve itself was ludicrous and Severus could not believe that Poppy Pomfrey would have made such a far-ranging statement…his eyes narrowed. Did the mediwitch actually say that or was that supposition something Dumbledore had made for her? Severus replayed the scene in the Headmaster’s office in his mind and realized they had all been manipulated. He now understood the strange expression Minerva McGonagall had given him the day before, again wondering if she had been forbidden from speaking what she thought. Was Albus even aware that Harry was not where he was supposed to be?

Harry’s breathing had finally evened out and Severus knew the child had fallen asleep. Harry whimpered as Severus attempted to lay him back down on the couch, clinging to him tightly. Resigned to the inevitable, Severus carried the child into the bedroom and carefully lay down with him. Harry Potter’s three-year-old form draped across his chest was impossibly lightweight and much too thin. Those damned Muggles couldn’t have fed the boy anything like what he needed to eat and Severus fell asleep plotting the slow demise of Petunia Dursley.

Sleepy emerald eyes stared back at him when Severus awoke. Only an arm around the boy’s back kept Harry from fleeing as awareness and terror filtered into those same eyes. Severus waited with uncharacteristic patience for the panic to subside, a pang of remembered emotion from his own childhood filling him. As the child calmed down, Severus noted that his skin still felt a bit too warm, the bruise adorning his cheek livid.

“Do you remember what happened, Harry?”

The small body relaxed slightly at the mild tone, as if Harry had decided Severus was not angry or going to hurt him.

“Bad dream…big snake…” Harry frowned in concentration, “…in the Chamber.”

Severus’ breath caught in his chest and he carefully sat up. So his memories were intact, he reasoned, but the three-year-old mind simply not developed enough to understand them. Absently, he ran a reassuring hand over the thin back.

“Yes, in the Chamber of Secrets,” Severus said softly. “Do you remember why you are here?”

The first true smile he’d seen lit Harry’s face. “Aunt P’tunia and Unca Vernon made you angry!”

“Yes,” Severus agreed readily, “they did indeed. I do not like people who hurt children, Harry.”

A hint of the twelve-year-old locked inside the toddler flashed in those eyes. “You don’t like me,” Harry accused.

It took tremendous effort not to fall back on the mannerisms he’d learned and used in his ten years of teaching and leave his expression open. “I admit that I may have misjudged you a bit, but Harry, I do not dislike you.”

The child eyed him suspiciously, forehead crinkled and Severus loosened his grip. Something sparked in the depths of those eyes again and Harry laid his head down for a moment on Severus’ chest.

“You fixed my broom,” he said in a small voice.

It took a moment before Severus understood what Harry was referring to and he nodded. “You can trust that I will not hurt you, all right?”

Emerald eyes studied his face and Severus knew that the child cared nothing for the unshaven jaw, lank hair, or hooked nose but for the sincerity of his words and what he read in the depths of Severus’ eyes. This was a child who had not had a lot of adults in his life that he could trust.

“Alright, ‘fessor.”

The small tendril of trust that was handed to a surprised Severus was fragile, so he took it carefully. With a brisk nod, Severus sat them both up and threw back the bedding. Easing Harry to the side, Severus got up and headed towards the bathroom while the child watched uncertainly.

“Come!”

Two things became immediately apparent to Severus – that physically Harry was operating at a three-year-old level whatever age his mind might be and that the boy was very used to fending for himself. Self-sufficient to a fault, Harry climbed up on the toilet in order to reach the sink and get washed. He had the bed made and the folded quilt laid across the back of the settee by the time Severus was finished dressing. A sad look crossed the boy’s face when Severus offered to open his trunk so Harry could get clean clothing.

“I don’t have any,” Harry whispered before trudging out to find the clothing he’d worn the previous day.

Staring after him, Severus let his curiosity get the better of him and moved to open the boy’s school trunk. He found it less than full, packed neatly with two years of school books and supplies. Harry’s uniform occupied one corner alongside a small pile of torn and tattered Muggle clothing. Picking up a pair of denim jeans, Severus was astounded to see that they were huge – so big that they would fall off of the likes of Crabbe and Goyle. Severus closed his eyes in remembered shame – verbal and physical abuse, starvation, and humiliation – how could Albus Dumbledore not know? His breath caught in his throat as he remembered the child’s reaction to Severus’ help in the bathroom, and sent a plea to the Goddess that the physical abuse had not manifested itself in that area.

Harry had already started preparations for breakfast when Severus stepped into the kitchen. Pausing in the doorway, he frowned as he watched the small fingers nimbly slicing fruit. Mentally adding enforced manual labor to the list of abuses, Severus moved to join the child.

“’S alright, sir?” Harry asked anxiously, seeing the scowl on Severus’ face.

“Although we will soon be having a discussion on age-appropriate work assignments, nevertheless I can assure you that everything is fine now, Harry,” Severus told him, wincing at the promise in his voice.

Resisting the urge to rip the sharp knife out of the toddler’s hand, Severus halted the tiny fingers with a touch, repositioning the knife and showing Harry the proper way to slice. Harry smiled up at him and went back to work; the tip of his tongue protruding from the corner of his mouth in youthful exuberance as he carefully sliced the remaining apple. It was when the child attempted to access the stove from a chair that Severus took an active role. He didn’t care to ask how a child, especially one barely out of nappies, could know so much about the culinary arts.

Nappies – now that brought a whole new twist in his gut as Severus sent Harry to set the table while he deftly cooked their breakfast. Petunia Dursley didn’t strike him as a woman who would’ve willingly changed Harry’s soiled nappies. A chill ran down his spine as he envisioned some of the methods that might have been used to speed up the child’s toilet training. Severus could not repress a shudder as he decided the Dursley’ methods put many a Death Eater to shame.

A silent presence at his side drew Severus’ attention. Looking down, he met the bright green eyes of Lily Evans but instead of her laughter and intelligence, Severus saw wariness and pain in their depths. The world as Severus Snape knew it tilted on its axis as the truth shattered any remaining lies or assumptions that Severus had believed for many years. The half-truths and manipulations were swept aside by the emotions swirling in the depths of those emerald eyes. Severus realized that he had grasped at the version of the truth he was provided with all these years because the guilt eating at his soul in the aftermath of Godric’s Hollow had demanded it. Painful reality slammed into him, as fresh and raw as it had been that October night: he was at least partially responsible for this child’s loss and subsequent life of hell. He had provided the information that ultimately led to the death of the only person who had befriended him at Hogwarts, the vivacious girl he’d come to love. In whose name he had sworn an oath of protection to this very boy so many years ago.

“Sir?”

Severus attempted to gather his shattered composure, snapping at the child.  
“What?”

The toddler took a hasty step back, shying away from a tone he knew well. Severus swore under his breath.

“It’s all right, Harry,” Severus sighed, rubbing a hand across his face. “I am not angry with you.”

He was angry at a manipulative Headmaster, irresponsible adult friends of James Potter, and certainly angry at himself, Severus thought, as he guided the child to the table. Setting a plate of food in front of Harry, Severus sat down beside him. Eating mechanically, his mind seemed lodged in a spiral of thought. He had, they all had, condemned this innocent child to a childhood of servitude and torment, to suffer inhumane treatment at the hands of relatives who never wanted him. Why had no one ever checked on Harry when he was little? Why had Albus allowed the child to go back to that house after his first year at Hogwarts? Surely the man had to have known what had happened to Harry in that place!

“’fessor?” A small hand tentatively reached for his empty plate.

Severus caught the hand, his fingers immediately feeling the calluses on the tips of the baby fingers; fingers that should be soft and pudgy at three years old, not work-hardened. The child looked up at him, an older influence in the depths of the verdant eyes held a challenge, but Severus did not feel like commenting on what they both knew to be the truth. This child had never been allowed to be a child.

“If you will assist me with the washing up, Harry, I will show you the correct methods for preparing potions ingredients.”

That was as much of a concession as Severus could make at that moment to the boy, his mind still struggling to accept his own culpability. An unexpected smile lit the pale, bruised face and was so exhilarating, Severus almost smiled back. The dishes were dealt with swiftly and when Severus carried Harry down the narrow stairs, it was purely a matter of expedience, of course. He’d been unable to find any bruise ointment, but it seemed a minor concern as the swelling seemed to have subsided on Harry’s face.

Once Harry has gotten over being reticent - sorely trying Severus’ patience with his timidity - he did well with the lessons. The nimble fingers helped prepare piles of ingredients, perfectly chopped, sliced, and minced. It seemed the boy was insanely cheerful when he didn’t fear reprisal and was nominally complimented. Severus made a mental note for future use. They had worked through the majority of the afternoon, stopping for tea and then continuing until dinner time. Following a quiet dinner, Severus napped after Harry had fallen asleep on the settee.

* * *

  
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	2. Chapter 2

Severus carefully locked and warded the house before Apparating deep into the enchanted forest behind the cottage. The moon slid into position and Severus expertly harvested the necessary plant as quickly as he could. He didn’t worry about Harry waking up - the child had been more than tired that evening - but about Dumbledore Flooing in to check on his progress. The moonlight lit the glen with a silver glow but Severus had no eyes for the beauty of the setting, dismissing it as soon as his brain registered it. The large dragon-skin bag hanging from his shoulder filled rapidly as Severus concentrated on his task.

Back in his lab, the piles of meticulously prepared ingredients helped speed the process along and Severus was able to take detailed notes of his observations. Lost in the research that he had been waiting so long to do, the Potions master had no concept of time passing. It wasn’t until he cast a stasis shield over the third gently simmering cauldron and rechecked the flame beneath each of them, that Severus’ stomach gave a loud gurgle. A glance at his pocket watch showed him that he had been working for over half a day, making it well past the noon hour. Tiredness settled over him heavily, like a winter cloak as he trudged up the stairs. The boy must have managed all right as he had not interrupted Severus once.

The tingle of powerful magic washed over him as Severus stepped through the door, causing him to pause momentarily as he sorted it out. A low trilling melody vibrated through the air and Severus’ head snapped up. Hurrying into the sitting room, Severus found Harry lying on the floor in front of the fireplace still dressed in the long shirt Severus had given him to wear. The boy was unconscious, his back arched stiffly as if he were convulsing. A scarlet-and-gold phoenix was rubbing its head against Harry’s forehead.

“Fawkes?” Severus dropped to his knees beside them, “Harry!”

Severus reached down to pick the child up, only to have Dumbledore’s familiar place himself between them, causing Severus to lost what little patience he had left.

“He would not be here if I intended to harm him, you blasted bird!” 

Fawkes tilted his head, but allowed Severus to reach around him and pick Harry up, cradling him to his chest. Deathly pale and burning with fever, the toddler’s body was stiff and Severus could feel the pulses of powerful magic ripple though him. He swore as he sat on the settee with Harry lying stiff and motionless in his arms, knowing he had to do something. The phoenix followed and began to rub his face across Harry’s forehead, directly over his scar. Severus’ sleep-deprived mind eyed the magical creature, a wild plan beginning to form. 

“If your loyalties are only to Dumbledore, you can leave now!” Severus snarled at the phoenix “But I know you saved Harry with your tears when you rescued him from the Chamber of Secrets. I need Madame Pomfrey immediately as the boy is ill, but neither Harry, nor I, needs the complication of Albus knowing he is not at his miserable Muggle relatives.”

The bird’s dark eyes seemed to asses his very soul as they stared at him unblinking. With another inclination of his head, the Phoenix disappeared in a burst of flame just as Harry’s body arched in another convulsion. Severus gave a tired sigh of frustration. Stupid pigeon! 

Shifting Harry in his arms, Severus was unnerved to find that the child was barely breathing, his back still rigid. A strong pulse of magic passed through him and scattered the books on the lower half of the bookshelves across the floor. Severus turned Harry and pressed the hot face into his shoulder, his fingers combing through the sweat-dampened hair. He began rocking back and forth as he had before, relieved when the small body began to relax. The waves of magic seemed to calm slightly, sliding along his skin with a prickly, irritated feeling. 

Severus sighed with relief as he felt the three-year-old grow limp in his arms, until he realized that Harry had stopped breathing. Lurching to his feet, his heart in his throat, Severus ripped the oversized shirt over Harry’s head as he laid him down on the settee. Frantically he laid a hand on the still chest, only to be jolted by a discharge of magical energy. Dropping to his knees, Severus dredged up a long-forgotten skill his father had forced him to learn, cupping his other hand around Harry’s face, sealing his mouth over the child’s nose and mouth. He blew gently, the hand on the boy’s chest feeling it rise. Harry’s skin was still incredibly hot under his touch. Letting the air escape, Severus blew gently again.

A flash of golden light didn’t faze him as he continued his ministrations, but Severus did jump as a hand settled gently on his shoulder. 

“Keep doing that until I can cast a diagnostic spell, Severus.” 

Poppy Pomfrey’s brusque voice sent a wave of relief crashing through him. He might be forced to Obliviate her later, but for the moment Severus was intensely glad she was there. His head spun as he took and gave shallow, slow breaths, the waves of powerful magic coursing through him from where his hand touched Harry’s face contributing to the feeling of disorientation. Another barely discernable wave of a different magic swept over him and Severus knew the mediwitch had done of medical scan of the child.

“Severus!” 

The note of panic in the witch’s voice startled him and Severus lifted his head. Her face was taut, her dark eyes fierce.

“It’s his magical core, Severus! His body was de-aged but his magical power wasn’t and Harry is much too powerful for this small body!” The mediwitch’s expression was grave.

“Harry’s magic is burning him up from the inside, Severus. He is dying.”

Her words seemed to trigger another seizure in the child. The hand still cupped around Harry’s face received a jolt of energy and Severus could not stifle his gasp as the magic flowed up his arm. Slipping his other hand down, Severus laid his hand on the boy’s abdomen where the exposed skin was burning with fever. The instant his hand settled on the heated flesh, Harry immediately calmed, his body relaxing even as the powerful magic continued to radiate off of him.

Remembering how the child had calmed during his nightmare the first night, Severus stood and swiftly began to unbutton his brewing robes. Harry began to spasm again the instant Severus’ hands left him as Poppy watched. She leaned down to stroke the toddler’s face with both hands. Severus frowned when her touch did nothing to calm Harry.

“Remove his clothing, please,” he told her, cursing the row of buttons at his cuff.

The witch quickly stripped off Harry’s trousers and the shirt as Severus pushed his robes and shirt off his shoulders. Lifting the child’s rigid body, Severus embraced him, pressing their chests together. His skin immediately seared with heat and magic, but there was an instant response as Harry stopped convulsing. The pulse of magical energy was staggering and sure hands guided him down to lay on the settee. He could feel the incredible power that disbursed across his chest, feeling it absorbed into his own flesh. Severus was relieved to feel a slow heart beat as he pressed a hand against the child’s back. He still could not feel Harry’s chest filling.

“Poppy, is he…”

“He’s not breathing, Severus!” The witch said as she franticly ran her wand over Harry. “Sweet Merlin, I warned Albus that this might happen! This boy is too powerful to allow him to naturally re-age!”

She cast several spells even as Severus watched the little boy’s lips turn blue. A wave of panic swept through him. He did not have access to any of his advanced potions here, ones that might be able to help breathe for Harry.

“Poppy, his magic seems to be under control at the moment, can’t you do something…”

“The pulses of uncontrolled magic are interfering with his normal bodily functions, Severus, his lungs are shutting down and his heart will be next, as they are closest to the core. The only hope is to control the magic, which would take someone with compatible magic to bind his magical core to. That way the magic can be shared and controlled until Harry has returned to his proper age.”

Closing his eyes tightly, Severus took a deep breath as he knew there was no question what needed to be done. He had tried so hard to hate James Potter’s son, despite the vow he’d made to both Dumbledore and Lily, but Severus had failed. He knew that he would do anything to keep her son alive. 

“Then do it, Poppy, quickly!” 

The older woman hesitated and Severus’ anger flared. “Lily Evans was my best friend and I have already sworn to protect her son with my very life! Allow me to do so now!”

The trill of phoenix song drowned out whatever the mediwitch might have said and reminded Severus of the magical creature’s presence. Fawkes swept over Severus’ shoulder to hover over them, as the song rose a flash of golden light seemed to enshroud them both, setting Harry’s pale face aglow. The warm feathers of one wing trailed over his fingers as they stroked the length of the toddler’s back and Severus gasped as heat seared through his chest. 

It seemed an eternity as his chest tightened and his breathing stopped. Severus was burning up from the inside out, pain tearing deep into his heart as his awareness shrunk to himself and the child sprawled on his chest. The emerald eyes snapped open, boring into his, memories flowing between them as if Severus had cast ”Legilimens~”. Painful memories filled with loneliness and despair swirled past as Severus struggled to concentrate on them. With a super-human effort, Severus focused on the stream, slowing it and redirecting back into Harry’s mind. 

As soon as he had the memories controlled, Severus became aware of the raw magic flowing from Harry in much the same way as the memories. Switching his focus, Severus was able to slow it and funnel it into his own magical core. The child gasped and drew in a deep, rattling breath and Severus found he could breathe again as well. Harry sagged onto his chest, face settling into the hollow of Severus’ throat and he was thankful to feel the child’s steady breath. Magical energy pulsed through him, gradually calming as the pain in his chest receded, Harry stirring slightly against him. 

Slowly, Severus became aware of Poppy Pomfrey standing beside him, her wand running over them both. Fawkes continued to trill softly, floating down to lay his head on Harry’s back. As Severus watched, two pearly-white tears slid down onto the child’s skin, one overflowing down to splatter on Severus’ chest. A feeling of healing heat, as wonderful as a crackling fire on a winder’s day flooded through him.

The large bird pinned him with a beady-eyed stare and Severus nodded his thanks. Another tear began to form and Severus scowled before silently summoning a clean vial from the bedroom. He held it out towards the mediwitch.

“Poppy, if you would be so good as to collect the tear Fawkes is giving me; I might be able to construct an antidote for Harry’s condition.”

The witch moved forward and gingerly held the vial steady as the phoenix blinked the tear loose. Harry moved slightly, his head rising slightly from Severus’ chest and he lifted a hand.

“Fawkes?” Harry whispered hoarsely.

The phoenix butted his head against the questing fingers and allowed Harry to stroke his head briefly, before he disappeared in a flash of flame. The small, dark head lifted just enough for Severus to see the pain receding from the world-weary green eyes as they studied his face. His hand seemed to stroke down the child’s back of its own volition as a crooked smile turned up the corners of Harry’s lips.

“T’ank you.”

Severus had no idea what to say to the boy and was spared the need as Poppy pounced on them both. In a whirlwind of activity, Severus found himself disrobed and tucked into his bed, a silent Harry still clinging to him tightly. Propped up against the pillows, Severus welcomed the tray of tea and sandwiched that appeared on the table, but Harry whimpered when the mediwitch tried to gently move the child to the other side of the bed.

Awkwardly, Severus tried to extract himself only to feel the rising panic in the child as he did. Rubbing his hand up and down Harry’s back, Severus used the other to slip two fingers under Harry’s chin and tilt his head up until their eyes met.

“Harry, you need to let Madam Pomfrey check you, please. You were very ill when I found you this afternoon. I promise that you can stay right here with me, after you are checked and eat something, all right?” 

Harry nodded slowly, moving to slide down Severus’ chest to his side, but never releasing his hand. He allowed Poppy to fuss over him, casting diagnostic spells, before swallowing several potions, at least one of which Severus recognized as a nutrition potion he made himself. A yellow ointment was spread across the bruised cheek and Severus nodded his approval. Muttering to herself about mad headmasters, Poppy stormed out of the bedroom and Harry immediately inched his way back to Severus, pressing against his side with a sigh.

“Feels better touchin’,” the child told him stifling a yawn, eyelids heavy.

Severus lifted his arm and settled Harry against his side, head pillowed on his shoulder. The soft skin still felt a little warm, Severus scowled and was about to pull the blankets up higher when Poppy swept back in, carrying a tray of food. Propping both of them up higher against the pillows, Severus hoped to eat enough to satisfy the woman quickly, so they could sleep. 

The beef broth was delicious and Severus ate the entire bowl he was given, snickering softly at Harry’s discomfort as Poppy insisted on feeding him. The tea blend she gave him was unfamiliar, but full-flavored and Severus sipped it with a smirk as Poppy cajoled the little boy to drink his juice, both knowing it was laced with potion. The mediwitch had the last laugh, however, when Severus felt his eyes slide shut and realized, much to his disgust, she’d managed to douse him with a sleeping potion as well.

~~~*~*~~~

 

Warmth surrounded him as Severus struggled to wake up. His eyes opened slowly to the gray light that proceeded dawn, feeling sore and muzzy. His grogginess evaporated as a small head moved on his chest and a soft breath blew across his bare skin. Harry. Severus brought his hand up and gently settled it on the middle of the child’s back, relieved to find the skin warm, not hot. The boy stirred slightly and stiffened, telling Severus Harry was awake.

“We seem to be establishing a pattern, Mr. Potter, where as I serve as your pillow.” 

It would have been much more effective if his voice had not been raspy and still clogged with sleep. Sleepy eyes blinked back at him as Harry slowly raised himself up and then did the last thing Severus expected, he giggled. Making the attempt to be irritated, Severus narrowed his eyes even as his hand stroked the child’s back. Still giggling madly, Harry lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Severus’ neck, taking him completely by surprise. Both arms came up reflexively to hold the little boy who buried his face in the hollow below Severus’ ear.

“Mr. Potter! What would your friends say if they could see you?”

The small arms tightened fractionally and Severus could have sworn he heard the child cheerfully mutter ‘git’ under his breath, before pulling back just enough to make eye contact. Bracing his hands on Severus’ chest, Harry looked down at him intently.

“You saved me again, ‘fessor. Fawkes told me during the night when I was hurting again and it was so dark.”

There was something different this morning, Severus thought, as he was held fast by emerald eyes. The child’s diction was more articulate, the face seemed just a little longer, and his eyes more aware. Reinforcing his hold, Severus sat them both up and knew instantly as Harry shifted in his lap that the boy had grown during the night. Although in no way an expert on early childhood development, Severus estimated Harry was at least four or five physically now. A jolt of relief went through him, and without knowing quite why, Severus hugged the child quickly.

“You do appear to have survived this latest ordeal, Harry,” Severus told him brusquely as he lifted the boy down. “Are you able to utilize the bathroom without assistance?”

“I think so,” the child seemed to pull back into himself at the loss of physical contact, and Severus frowned as he watched him shuffle towards the loo. 

The child seemed to be stiff and Severus could see areas of bruising that were beginning to show across Harry’s back. A general healing potion and the bruise salve should not interfere with the phoenix tears that had obviously helped mitigate the damage done by the Shrinking Solution, if not the immense surges of magical power Harry had generated. If Severus could figure out which properties of the tears Fawkes had left behind was the solution, he could brew a potion that would safely return the boy to his normal stature, without the high drama of the previous night. Arching his back as he stood, Severus winced at the ache from lying in one spot all night.

Gathering his clothing, Severus followed Harry into the bathroom, only to find the child in a crouch, breathing heavily. It didn’t seem possible that the boy’s magical core was still in such flux, but Severus was very much aware of Harry’s weakened physical state. Reaching down, Severus looped a hand around his thin arm and tugged him to his feet, before picking Harry up. It was awkward at best to go through his morning ablutions with a small child clinging tightly to his chest, but Severus managed. Perhaps with some food and rest, Harry would be strong enough by afternoon for Severus to go down and make the needed observations of the various derivatives of the Wolfsbane potion. 

Poppy had left a note and several potions in the kitchen, making Severus grateful for the witch’s help. The work of keeping Harry’s magical core stabilized was what Severus was doing, but the child was still trying to adjust to everything else and do so without the full power he was used to. He was obedient enough, taking the potions Severus handed him, but whimpered when the attempt was made to put him in another chair. For the first time, Severus wondered how much pain Harry was still suffering from during the time his core fluctuated. Poppy seemed to feel that the painful part was behind him, but the boy’s reluctance to be separated from him weighed heavily on his mind. Severus had no analgesic potion on hand that would dull the level of pain he had witnessed Harry going through the night before.

“Pr’fessor?” Harry asked quietly, pulling back to look at him from beneath his lashes. “Can I have toast?”

“I believe I can make some for us, if you feel you are able to sit at the table for a moment.” 

The child nodded slowly, allowing Severus to put him down in a chair. Severus moved swiftly to make a pot of porridge and toast some bread. A teapot sat waiting under a warming charm, and he silently thanked Poppy for her thoughtfulness. His hands mechanical prepared the steaming bowls as his mind wandered to the ingredients he would need to start a potion to ease Harry’s painful growth. A nearly inaudible whimper spurred him on and Severus hurried to set the bowls down on the table. He had Harry back in his arms without conscious thought, simply holding him until the child relaxed. 

“Better?” Severus asked, rubbing his hand up the small back.

Harry nodded and Severus sat in his chair, lifting the boy enough to turn him and press his back against his chest. Reaching across the table, Severus pulled their breakfast closer and poured himself a cup of tea. Leaning against him, Harry silently ate a slice of toast, but Severus was relieved to find that his skin temperature felt normal. With a little urging, Harry leaned over and began to eat the porridge slowly, but Severus was pleased that he was taking in some sustenance. The child would need to eat all he could just to gain some mass, Severus thought idly as he steadied the boy with an arm around his waist. He was rewarded with a shy smile from Harry and something unfamiliar tightened in his chest.

The food seemed to help bolster the child’s strength and they managed to make it through the remainder of the morning without incident. Down in his lab, Severus made notes as he observed the softly simmering cauldrons of Wolfsbane Potion, noting color, clarity, and viscosity, all with Harry leaning against his leg. There was no bruise ointment in the potions Poppy had left, and Severus started a small cauldron of it brewing. The potion itself was easy, most of the ingredients were within his reach and he quickly prepared them along with what he thought would work best in the potion to help Harry’s re-aging. The child was quieter than he had been the day before, but seemed content to read a picture book about Quidditch, his hand from time to time sliding under Severus’ trouser leg to grip his calf. 

On these occasions, Severus became aware again of the intense magical energy flowing between them. That Harry was so powerful surprised Severus, who had always thought the boy’s talents were mediocre at best. In truth, the child’s power was raw, untrained, and seemed for the most part, untapped by Harry’s consciousness. Severus doubted that even Albus Dumbledore was completely aware of the depths of Harry’s power, but he had no doubt that the manipulative old wizard had an inkling. The Headmaster had his own plans for young Potter, convinced as he was that the Dark Lord had not truly been vanquished. That very fact had been part of the demand for Severus’ Unbreakable Vow of protection to Harry after the devastation of Lily’s death. Now, that oath seemed to have been supplanted by a deeper bond, one in which Harry had chosen him and a phoenix had been the bonder. 

Arms wrapped around his thigh, pulling Severus from his thoughts. Luminous emerald eyes smiled up at him hesitantly, hope shining in them and Severus had to wonder just how deep the bond went. The memories they had exchanged flashed in his mind, startling him with their clarity as well as the emotions they carried. Fawkes had bound their magical cores as well as their very souls. His eyes narrowed at the youngster leaning so trustingly against his leg. Or had Harry had bound their souls? Either way, it seemed that he was well and truly caught, Severus reasoned, and wouldn’t the Headmaster be glad to hear this?

“Pr’fessor?” Harry’s voice sounded small in the harshness of his rumination.

“I believe at this point in our…situation, Harry,” he pinched the bridge of his nose to stave off the impending headache. “You may call me Severus.”

“Sev…Sev’rus,” Harry tried it out softly and a ridiculous thrill shot through Severus.

“Sweet Merlin, child, what have you done to me?”

~~~*~*~~~

 

A subtle color change in one of the cauldrons caught Severus’ eye and he cautiously leaned over it. The iridescent shimmer in the blue steam could only be caused by the Silver Agave variant that seemed to be the most promising and it was the first Severus had seen in the past ten days of watching. Summoning a crystal stirring rod from the workbench, Severus carefully tested the viscosity of the potion, please to note the gelatinous consistency was just as it should be for this stage of brewing. With a feeling of accomplishment, Severus noted down the observations he had made, before checking the other two cauldrons. Neither of them had progressed beyond what was regarded as normal for the standard brewing of Wolfsbane. These findings were just as carefully noted on the parchment as well.

A slight noise from the corner reminded him of Harry’s presence and Severus glanced over to check on him. In the last few days they had settled into a routine of sorts, with the little boy shadowing Severus as if scared to be out of his sight. Gradually Severus had found they could spend more and more time without touching, with the exception of the nights, when Harry slept quite contently draped across his chest. There had been no other seizures, but neither had Harry aged at all. 

Suspecting the reprieve was temporary at best, Severus continued to work on a base for the potion that might help the boy. The precious vial of phoenix tears sat on the workbench, waiting for Severus to come up with the right combination of ingredients to work with the residual poisons in the small body. There were several standard potions to flush toxins, all of which were too harsh for Harry’s present condition. Complicating the matter was the limited amount of phoenix tears that Fawkes had left, as the phoenix had not made another appearance since that night.

Finishing his notes, Severus straightened and arched his back to stretch it. He moved toward where Harry sat and the child looked up with a smile. Severus found his own lips curving slightly in an involuntary response. Harry had been quiet and exceedingly easy to please, as if he was delighted just to have a safe place to sleep and food to eat. It was unnerving, really. Small children were noisy and demanding, much too coarse in their manners for Severus’ liking. But not this child, except for Harry’s unceasing demand concerning their sleeping arrangements, of course. It was unnerving at best.

“Sev’rus?” There was an anxious tone to the small voice as Harry took in his frown, hand crumpling the edge of the paper he had been drawing on.

“Come,” Severus extended his hand, still surprised when Harry climbed to his feet and slid his fingers trustingly into Severus’.

Shedding his brewing robes in the bedroom, Severus beckoned Harry and led the way outside. The child stepped into the warm sunlight, blinking rapidly and Severus wondered when he should start Harry wearing glasses again. The miniature school shoes on his feet and the black trousers both seemed a bit small, but there were no other clothes worth shrinking. That created another problem for him as Severus watched the boy shuffle out into the middle of the small patch of grass in the rear garden. A ball sat in the corner and Severus summoned it.

“Harry,” he called, throwing it towards the boy, only to frown as it bounced right by. “Well, go and get it!”

Obediently, Harry chased after the bouncing white and black ball, his path taking him to the edge of the enchanted forest. Ancient oaks lined the back of the garden, towering protectively over the path leading into the woods and it was against one of these that the ball stopped. As Severus watched it became obvious that at four or five years old, Harry didn’t know how to play with the ball and had probably never been allowed to do so. Anger burned in the pit of his stomach as he thought of the life they had subjected Lily’s son to when they left him in the hands of that vindictive bitch Petunia. 

Harry bent down to pick up the ball as Severus watched, straightening up slowly as his eyes followed the lines of the tall oak in front of him. The oak seemed to twitch and Severus took a step forward before freezing in his tracks. The tree seemed to bow to the small child, as did each of the other oaks in the immediate vicinity and Severus blinked. The oak tree had been revered since ancient times and was closely associated with the Celtic gods and goddesses. The child, ball clasped tightly to his chest, seemed to feel the change in the atmosphere but did not appear frightened. Severus took another step forward, his body moving of its own accord whether beckoned or by unconscious compulsion, he couldn’t tell. Harry wrapped one arm around his thigh, his eyes still fixed on the oak.

“The tree says to use Dwale and murtlap,” Harry whispered, pressing against his leg.

Reaching down, Severus lifted Harry into his arms, swearing the largest of trees nodded its approval as the child settled comfortably against his chest. The anxiety Severus was feeling receded as inquisitive green eyes looked over the football at him. Severus backed away from the forest with a slight bow, his mind still shifting through old memories of lessons his mother had taught him when he was very young. The encounter had not frightened him as Severus had a firm belief in the old teachings, but it had been unsettling.

Determined not to frighten the child, Severus set Harry down on the grass and showed him how to kick the ball with the side of his foot. The boy broke into a run as he chased the ball and promptly kicked it under a shrub. Dropping to his hands and knees to retrieve it, Harry came up with a smear of dirt on his cheek and the first real smile Severus had seen in the past week. He felt his own lips curving upwards even as his heart lurched. Those eyes shone as the child ran towards him with his treasure, Harry’s cheeks flushed pink. Severus knew then that he was completely ensnared, bewitched by the little sorcerer.

Something clicked in the recesses of his mind. Harry was the Mabon, the Divine Child. The boy dropped the ball and kicked it at him. Stepping forward Severus kicked it back gently, his mind whirling. The Druids, the elite priests and priestesses of the ancient Celtics, believed that to become a god one had to be devoured by a god or goddess, regenerated in their womb and then reborn as a Divine Child. This child was a powerful creature, destined to become a savior of its people, people who put great faith in creativity, wisdom, and love. 

These children were recognized as sorcerers; powerful magical beings and quickly secreted away for special training. The training spanned all manner of subjects given by a carefully chosen mentor, who educated their young charges on centuries of wisdom, a firm belief in justice, and the art of love. The Druids had a deep, abiding love of all things, including the body and sexuality, teaching these at a young age. Merlin had been a Divine Child, as was the Lady of Avalon, and it was believed the four Hogwarts Founders may have been as well. Severus also suspected Albus Dumbledore was a Divine Child. The most powerful wizard of their time, his strong sense of justice and deep love had defeated his own lover after Grindelwald had succumbed to Dark magic. Dumbledore had fulfilled the roll of savior for his generation, Severus thought grimly.

The football rebounded off his shin and Severus’ head jerked up at the odd sound Harry made. Eyes fired with an inner glow that showed some of the mischief of his Harry surfacing, the little boy giggled wildly behind the hand clasped over his mouth. His breath caught in his throat; it was the first time Harry had laughed since he’d come into Severus’ care and it did something strange to Severus’ chest. It was all Severus could do not to let his incredulous feeling pull his face into its more customary frown, one Harry was sure to misunderstand. Instead, Severus concentrated on allowing the smile he felt twitching at the corners of his mouth to surface as he used the toe of his boot to nudge the ball. Pulling back his foot in an exaggerated movement, a laugh escaped Severus as Harry squealed with delight and ran across the lawn in preparation for the ball that sailed his way.

This Harry was the one Severus had seen after catching the Snitch: carefree, joyous, and triumphant. This was the person behind the hurt, timid child. Severus only needed to know how to draw him out.

~~~*~*~~~

 

Altarnun was a small village in north Cornwall, comparable to Hogsmeade in size, but vastly different in make-up. A small magical population kept to itself on the outer edge of the commercial district, which suited Severus’ purposes just fine. Harry needed some clothing that actually fit him and that didn’t need to be transfigured every morning. Likewise, even though his pantry had been well-stocked, they could always use some fresh produce, Severus reasoned as he carried the child into the small shop. Since playing outside earlier Harry seemed drained of energy and that was very worrying for Severus, he was concerned about having the potion ready in time. The shop actually belonged to a wizard and his Muggle-born wife, containing a small but adequately stocked apothecary in the back room. There was murtlap among his potions ingredients, but Severus did not have the particular version of belladonna or Dwale that Harry had mentioned. 

The child stayed beside him even when Severus told him he could look around. The fearful look that Severus had already come to detest was back in the emerald eyes and he quickly slipped the package into his pocket as they moved back to the front of the shop where the children’s clothing was. The owner quickly supplied Severus with what he needed, realizing that Severus didn’t suffer fools gladly and was willing to pay for the promptness. No one spared a second glance at Harry, quietly standing at his side. Severus couldn’t help but stroke a hand through the child’s soft hair when Harry tensed, letting him know everything was fine. 

Harry fell asleep on the way back to the cottage, twin spot of red staining his cheeks. Severus laid his cheek against the scarred forehead and was not surprised to find it warmer than it should be. Summoning a fever-reducing potion from the bathroom, Severus roused the child enough to get half a vial down him before Harry was unconscious again. Carrying Harry down to the lab, Severus settled him onto a conjured cot as he automatically checked the Wolfsbane Potions. 

After making the necessary notations in his journal, Severus stood in front of the shelving, trying to decide which medicinal base would work the best. The indecision was uncharacteristic and Severus berated himself for his hesitation, choosing the base he had been specifically working on for Harry. The combination of murtlap essences and Dwale, not an unusual combination for the ancients to use, was a new one to him. Separate, neither reacted negatively to the other ingredients in the base, but together they could be volatile if not handled precisely nor did he have any idea what the introduction of phoenix tears would do to the mixture. Harry whimpered softly from the cot and Severus knew time had become a luxury for them.  
Stopping only to strip down to his shirt and trousers, Severus rolled up his sleeves and began to prepare the murtlap. Setting it to one side, he carefully opened the small vial of crushed Dwale berries. Belladonna was the genus name for the plants of the poisonous Nightshade family, all parts of which contained various levels of an alkaloid, Atropine, the root having the most concentration. For a child, the black berries should be more than adequate for what he was trying to accomplish. After adding the murtlap and then the pulverized belladonna to the rapidly simmering cauldron, Severus painstakingly cleaned the worktable and his hands of any traces of the poison. 

“Severus!” 

The voice he’d expected, but had hoped he would not hear boomed through the cottage and Severus closed his eyes tightly. Offering up a plea to any of the deities who watched over fools and Divine Children, Severus turned down the flame and glanced at Harry, before he made his way up the stairs. 

Albus Dumbledore paced in front of the fireplace, clearly agitated. The royal blue robes snapped as he whipped around the moment Severus stepped into the room. Reinforcing his Occlumency shields, Severus braced himself as he met the concerned blue eyes. 

“Ah, there you are my boy! Severus, I am sorry to interrupt your research, but I am afraid I need your help once again.” Dumbledore resumed his pacing.

“Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban and I know he will try and get to Harry. We will need to have provisions in place at Hogwarts to stop him.” 

“Headmaster, I…” Severus began as hatred so intense that he felt like vomiting suffused him for the wizard had Dumbledore mentioned. 

Dumbledore shook his head, cutting across Severus’ words. “Really, Severus, you need to let go of your adolescent dislikes Sirius…”

“Tried to kill me!” Severus hissed between clenched teeth, his blood boiling as it always did when this subject was brought up. “Then the bastard carelessly gambled with Lily’s life and lost – sacrificing her to the Dark Lord without a blink!”

The clear blue eyes flashed at him, but Severus didn’t back down. Sirius Black was a bastard to him in their school days and was as guilty of his best friend’s death as if he’d killed her with his own wand.

“I don’t believe Sirius Black would have betrayed James Potter, Severus, despite appearances…”

Severus took a step closer, his rage blinding him to any danger. “Is that why you allowed him to be thrown in Azkaban for over twelve years without a trial, Headmaster?” 

The usually jovial face closed and Dumbledore’s eyes narrowed. Severus knew he had over-stepped his bounds, but nothing infuriated him so much as the reminder of Black. There was more, Severus could tell as the Headmaster drew himself to his full height.

“Remus Lupin will be returning to Hogwarts this term to take the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, Severus, and you will supply him with the improved Wolfsbane Potion you are researching. Once you have completed your work here, you will need to return to Hogwarts to assist in the new defensive measures we are putting in place to protect the students.”

“Protect the students?” Severus interrupted. “Or are all these precautions simply to protect Potter?”

“The boy is special, Severus, whether you will admit it or not.” 

The condescension in Dumbledore’s tone just added to Severus’ ire. “If the boy is so special to you, Headmaster, how is it that you haven’t checked on him since you sent him home in such an altered condition?”

Dumbledore dismissed his concerns with a wave of his hand. “I am sure Harry is fine in the care of his aunt and uncle. Now…”

“And how would you know that, if you haven’t checked?” Severus was nearly shouting, knowing full well that this was not the wisest course of action. 

“They may have seemed a tad harsh, Severus, but I am sure…”

“A tad harsh?” Severus literally saw red. “You sent me to deliver the child to those monsters because you believed I hated him enough to leave him in a situation where he was obviously abused!”

“I never…”

“No, you never did check on Harry in all the time he was growing up either, I suspect!” Severus spat out. “Is he nothing to you but the weapon of a drunken prophecy, Albus? Does he truly mean nothing more than a means to an end?”

The older man paled at his accusation, his white beard crackling with ambient magic as he opened his mouth to retort, but whatever the Headmaster had intended to say was forestalled when Severus felt a small hand slide into his. The skin on skin contact immediately calmed him, in much the same manner as it had Harry over the past week and Severus took a deep breath. Harry stood very close to him, but Severus did not look away from the enraged face in front of him.

“What have you done, Severus?” Albus Dumbledore’s voice was a flat monotone, frightening in its lack of inflection.

Drawing himself to his full height, Severus squared his shoulders. “I lived up to the Unbreakable Oath I swore before you a dozen years ago, Headmaster; the oath of protection I swore to Lily’s son. I did as you instructed me: I left the child on the doorstep and would been on my way had that fat pig of a Muggle just waited until I was out of earshot before attempting to throttle the child!”

“You have deprived Harry of the safety his mother’s sacrifice, Lily’s sacrifice was infused into the protective fields around her sister’s home!”

“The same home where he would have died had I left him there,” Severus told him flatly. “Harry stopped breathing during a seizure not long after we arrived here. I doubt his relations would have rendered any aid.” 

Albus Dumbledore’s eyes bored into him, raking across Severus’ face and down to the boy at his side. Harry’s fingers tightened around his hand but he remained silent.

“So be it, Severus, you have made your choice evident, therefore you can assume all responsibility for Harry for the remainder of the holidays and you will continue by mentoring him through the coming year.” The headmaster announced with the gravity of an oath. “It will be decided then where he is to spend next summer.”

Then the powerful wizard was gone in a swirl of royal blue and Severus took his first real breath in minutes. Harry’s hand slipped from his, but it took a heartbeat for Severus to realize the child had slid to the floor, unconscious. With his heart in his throat, Severus scooped him up, pressing Harry to his chest. The telltale heat was there and he seemed to be breathing slowly. Severus quickly made his way down the stairs, settling Harry gently on the cot with a blanket wrapped around him. His fingers lingered, brushing the fringe back from Harry’s face.

Turning, Severus returned to his shimmering potion. The color was a deep violet and he carefully stirred it once clockwise and once anti-clockwise as he watched the reaction with a critical eye. The appearance was what Severus would expect for a potion with the combination of components that he had used, but there was no way of knowing whether it would truly work. Severus wasn’t sure enough of the balance of his proportions to call it complete or to risk the phoenix tears on it, but he left it simmering as he began to prepare a second cauldron.

“Sev’rus?” A thin voice interrupted his concentration. “I don’t feel good.”

Stirring twice more clockwise, Severus laid the stirring rod on the workbench and bent down to lay a hand on Harry’s forehead. He could feel the heat radiating off the skin as Harry shivered beneath the conjured blanket.

“M’thirsty,” Harry muttered, leaning into Severus’ palm. 

Crouching down, Severus drew the blanket up higher and tucked it around the child’s shoulders. He wanted to comfort Harry, to show him that he did care, but his skills were sorely lacking. Remembering something that Lily used to do that always made him feel better Severus pressed his cheek lightly against Harry’s hot forehead. He stood quickly, before the boy pushed him away, his fear of rejection deeply engrained. 

“I will fetch some water.” Severus’ voice was as rough as he felt.

Sweeping up the stairs, Severus thought of the tremendous responsibility he’d just been handed and smiled. He’d already been chosen by Harry, their magic tying them together in such a way that no one, Muggle or wizard, could ever force them apart. Albus Dumbledore had merely given him official sanction for the task he had willingly accepted. After all, it had been Harry’s trust in him initially that had saved the boy’s life and started them on this path. 

Severus braced his hands against the edge of the sink. He had much to learn concerning the interpersonal interaction between two people so closely bound. Lily had been his best friend and Severus had learned for a time to accept her affection and chiding compliments, but he knew that his own insecurities, coupled with Harry’s could spell disaster for both of them if they weren’t put aside. Harry had already shown that he had the capacity to forgive and even trust in the absence of anything but the rudimentary concern Severus had shown. 

Severus drew a deep breath; there was so much to think about, so many things that had to be accomplished prior to returning to Hogwarts. Harry would not be returning to that detestable household, ever! This meant Severus needed to determine the depth of the bond that joined their magical cores and to ensure that the mentorship bond of the Divine Child was firmly in place. The sexual component shouldn’t really be problematic once Harry was re-aged – Severus had never been attracted to boys, preferring tall, well-built young men to assuage his appetites. Perhaps they could work on Harry’s nutritional intake and add a bit of muscle to his form as he grew.

Returning to the lab, Severus’ heart stopped when he saw that Harry had his head flung back and his back was bowed in the throes of a seizure. Time had run out. Flying to the worktable, Severus grabbed the vial of phoenix tears only to have it slip from his fingertips and bounce off the wooden surface. Severus managed to summon it into his hand with a silent Accio. He took a calming breath, the feeling that he’d lost control was disconcerting and he needed all his faculties about him. 

Carefully, Severus added the tears to the cooling violet potion. A flash of bright light startled him and Severus fell back a step, arms thrown up to cover his face. No explosion followed and he leaned back over the potion, stirring it very slowly in a neutral patterned. A glance at Harry showed he was still rigid and the cot was now floating off the floor. The core bond tugged at Severus urgently, a pulling sensation in the center of his body. He quickly ladled the shimmering potion into a large vial, slipping it into his trouser pocket as he turned to the cot, cautiously pressing it back down.

Ripping open his shirt, Severus picked up Harry’s stiff body up and pressed the child against him. Spasms wracked the thin form as Severus took the steps two at a time. 

“Come on, Harry, focus on me.”

The magic flowed between them as Severus stumbled into the bedroom. With trembling hands, he laid Harry on the bed, kneeling beside him as he forced the small mouth open. If he could just get half of the vial into Harry, Severus knew that at least the phoenix tears in the potion might help ease the transformation. 

“Swallow, Harry!” Severus massaged the slim neck, but groaned in frustration as precious drops trickled down Harry’s chin.

“Potter!”

The youngster twitched and gulped, swallowing the mouthful of liquid. Relieved, Severus leaned down and kissed the burning forehead.

“Good boy!” 

Shedding the tattered remains of his shirt and stepping out of his trousers, Severus quickly stripped Harry. Sliding into bed, his wand and the rest of the vial of potion on the bedside table, Severus drew Harry to him and settled the child across his chest. While he was still burning up, the child had at least stopped seizing and Severus was thankful for that. He cradled his precious one close, a hand stroking through the soft hair, but at a loss for the words that would comfort Harry. Severus began to murmur the list of ingredients he had used in the Wolfsbane Potion hoping that hearing his voice would be enough for the boy.

Suddenly, Harry gasped and reared back, his green eyes filled with terror as heat exploded between them. A great flash of magical light exploded in the room and Severus knew only heat and darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

The first thing Severus became aware of was the weight pressing against him. Draped across his chest, the wonderfully warm flesh had made Severus aware and he was thankful that both of them were still breathing. The memory of a magical blast was among his waking thoughts and he struggled to open his eyes. His body felt relaxed and surprisingly pain-free considering the experience and his general everyday aches. Darkness greeted his eyes as soft hair tickled his throat and Severus reached out to stroke the Harry’s back, only to find the child was not so small anymore. 

With a genuine grin, Severus struggled to sit up. His hands ran up and down the sides of a lean, but definitely older, torso and Severus felt like throwing his head back and laughing. The potion had worked! Shifting the weight in his arms, Severus reached for his wand.

“Lumos!” 

His wand tip flared, flooding the immediate area with harsh light and Harry murmured a protest, burying his face deeper into Severus’ throat. The small child who had wormed his way into Severus’ well-fortified heart with his quiet innocence and unconditional acceptance had been replaced by the slender, lithe body of a boy on the cusp of manhood. The lean plane of a trim back tapered to a slim waist before disappearing under the bedding, slender arms wrapped around Severus’ chest. His Divine Child had been restored to his almost normal form and Severus smiled. There had been no sexual attraction to the child Harry, but this Harry was one that he could slowly start tutoring in the art of love along with the many other lessons he was now charged with teaching him. The Slytherin in him turned his smile predatory.

“Sev’rus?” The green eyes still held the innocent child in them as Harry lifted his head.

Severus moved the wand away a bit, his other hand moving to stroke Harry’s back. “How do you feel?”

“Loads better now.” Harry shifted, throwing a leg over Severus’ in a move that almost made him groan. “Still sleepy, though.”

Waving up the torches, Severus extinguished his wand tip. Glancing at the hint of gray light outside the window, he estimated they had been unconscious over twelve hours. His bladder was confirming this with an insistent protest as to how full it was and his stomach seconded the protest with a rumble. Harry remained curled against him as he had while a small child and Severus had a brief bad moment when he considered the boy’s reaction to him now that he was re-aged. The logical portion of his brain reminded him that Harry had never lost his memories throughout the ordeal and should remember what had happened.

“I believe I need to use the loo and get a spot of something to eat.” Severus told him carefully. “Would you like something as well?”

Blinking sleep out of his eyes, Harry brought a fist up to rub one as he had done as a little boy and Severus remembered the glasses in the drawer of the bedside table. Gently shifting Harry to the side, Severus retrieved them and placed them in Harry’s hand, before sitting up. Clad only in his boxers, Severus slid from the bed and walked to the bathroom on surprisingly shaky legs. Whatever had happened to Harry during the burst of magical energy, Severus had also been affected in some way. Leaving the door open as had become their habit, Severus hurried, knowing Harry was likely confused.

As he stepped back into the room, Severus saw Harry had got out of bed and was standing next to his trunk with a pair of boxers in his hand. The underwear had once been white and originally made for someone much larger than this boy, clearly hand-me-downs were the only clothing that Harry had been supplied with. It was strange to see him standing there, so tall and straight, his expressive eyes hidden behind the round glasses. Severus blinked, refocusing on the cloth in Harry’s hand as his lip curled.

“Don’t wear those, Harry.” Severus pointed towards the doorway. “The clothes we bought yesterday are especially charmed to fit to any size, remember?”

Stepping into his trousers, Severus summoned the parcel they had never unwrapped from their trip into the village the morning before. Removing the wrapping from the bundle, he looked up to find Harry watching him, a closed, guarded look on his face. There was a painful twinge in his chest that Severus couldn’t explain and he stood up straight as Harry took the new boxers from his hand and slid them on.

“Ask me the question, Harry.” Severus said softly.

“Why…why did you help me?” 

Harry’s face had a hopeful, yet fearful look as he faced Severus, who knew he should have been prepared for the question, but wasn’t. As he formulated a response that he though was appropriate, Severus watched Harry’s face tighten at his hesitation. The mask of insolence and impertinence that Severus was more familiar with fell into place, a mask that Severus knew by now covered Harry’s hurt and insecurity with sheer bravado. 

“Oh, I forgot, I’m bloody special, aren’t I!” Harry said scathingly, turning away from him. “Only reason you’d do it!”

“Yes, you are special.” Severus answered truthfully, laying a hesitant hand on Harry’s shoulder, the magic flowing between them. “You are Lily’s son, Harry, who I made a vow to protect the night she and your father were murdered.”

“Why?”

Severus closed his eyes, laughing green eyes and flying auburn hair flashed through his memories. “Lily Evans was my best friend and I loved her very much. Rather in the manner that Hermione Granger is your best friend. It has little to do with the specific circumstances, and everything to do with the fact that you are hers.”

The shoulder relaxed, the magic swirling through Severus and back to Harry, immediately calming both of them. “How much do you remember of the last two weeks, Harry? Do you remember Fawkes being here or the trees at the edge of the forest?”

Harry turned slowly towards him; his eyes haunted as he looked up to met Severus’. “I think I remember it all, I think, although it seems more like a dream than real. The tree talked in…I think it talked in my head and said I was, uh, yours.”

The boy moved closer with a hesitant step until he was practically pressed against Severus’ chest, in the position the child Harry had often adopted when in pain or upset. 

“And you yelled at Professor Dumbledore for me yesterday.” Harry frowned, “I think it was yesterday, after he got mad at you for taking me from my aunt and uncle.”

“I could not stand by and watch you be hurt, Harry, I have had too much first hand knowledge of how that feels,” Severus told him quietly, slipping an arm loosely around Harry’s shoulders. 

“Our magic…” Harry hesitated, seeming to gather his breath before launching into speech. “I did that, didn’t I? I tied our magic together because it hurt so much and you made it feel better when we were touching.”

Severus nodded as he maneuvered the boy out of the bedroom when Harry’s stomach gave an ominous rumble. Directing him to sit at the table, Severus summoned a blanket before turning to make them sandwiches. Twin spots of color appeared on the boy’s cheeks as Harry ate hungrily and Severus recognized that they were not yet done. Upon closer inspection, Harry appeared to be around the age he was when he had arrived at Hogwarts, albeit a little taller. Perhaps two solid weeks of being fed regularly would have a beneficial overall effect on Harry’s stature. 

Sending Harry ahead to the bedroom after they had straightened the kitchen, Severus did a cursory check of the cauldrons of Wolfsbane Potion before retrieving a fever-reducing potion. If they had another episode to go through, Severus wanted to be well-prepared for anything. He sincerely hoped that it would not be a repeat the past re-aging sessions, as Harry needed only another year or so of growth to return of to a normal state, but the combination of substances had been unpredictable enough that anything could happen. 

Harry was already back in bed, one arm flung over his forehead as he lay against the pillows. Severus sat down on alongside him and gently removed the obstructing arm, brushing back his fringe in order to lay an assessing hand on the boy’s forehead. The skin was definitely warmer now, Severus thought, as his fingers lingered in the soft hair.

“Head’s starting to hurt again.” Harry told him quietly, opening his eyes.

Nodding, Severus started to pull his hand back when he caught sight of the thin pink line where Harry’s prominent lightning-bolt scar had been. He leaned down to study the mark. It appeared that the potion had somehow cleansed the scar of the Dark magic that had kept it swollen and irritated for almost a dozen years. He traced the fine line with a feeling of amazement. Perhaps it was a result of the magical burst of energy that had rendered them unconscious or possibly a combination of that and the potion that had been powerful enough to purge the scar. 

“Sev’rus?” 

Harry’s voice held a question, but Severus knew the explanation would have to wait. He felt the emerald eyes follow his movement as he retrieved the precious potion from the bedside table and handed it to Harry.

“Take the rest of this as I think we have one more stage to go through before you are completely restored to normal.” 

Harry frowned, but downed the contents before handing the vial back to him. 

“What’s that?” Harry asked, pointing at his bare left forearm.

Glancing down, his mouth already opening to deliver a scathing retort about the hideous faded brand on his arm, Severus froze. The Dark Mark, the black stain that had blemished his very soul was gone and in its place was a small golden lightening bolt just above his wrist. Like Harry’s scar, it appeared that the brand that had caused his best friend to turn from him all those years ago, had been removed, purged by the same incredible magic. A feeling of euphoria swept through Severus, so strong that his head seemed to spin as he stared at the new mark. Severus swallowed, twice, before he was able to speak.

“I believe we’ve both been given a great gift, child.” 

Harry looked bemused. “The tree called me that. Child, I mean, Divine Child or something, said I was yours now to guide.” He yawned widely.

Severus waved down the torch and settled into bed, pulling Harry close to his side. “I am not quite sure who is whose here but I do know that we are now tied together by ancient, as well as magical, bonds. No one will ever be able to separate us, Harry, and I will do all I can to prepare you for whatever the future brings.”

Slender arms and legs entwined around him and Harry snuggled close as if daring anything to try to come between them. “Good.”

Severus smiled as he stroked a hand down the lean back and followed Harry into slumber.

~~~*~*~~~  
>>

The bed dipped next to him and it woke Severus. Blinking his eyes against the bright light, he rolled over on his back with a groan, ignoring the snicker from Harry as he threw an arm across his face.

“What time is it?” Severus asked, his nose twitching at the smell of tea and scones.

Another pillow was shoved under his head, jarring him as Harry practically straddled his face in his enthusiasm. “It’s gone ten, and I didn’t think you wanted to sleep all day. Doesn’t your potion need to be checked?”

Squinting, Severus frowned as he tried to sit up and in the process sent Harry tumbling off his chest. “Insolent brat,” he grumbled as he finally managed to prop himself up.

“Yeah,” Harry readily agreed, handing Severus the mug he used every morning with exaggerated care. “But I brought hot tea and warm toast, so you’ll forgive me, won’t you?”

Severus grunted as he blew across the steaming surface, studying Harry from under his lashes. He definitely looked far better then he had the morning after his foray into the Chamber of Secrets. He winced at the thought of this boy alone in the bowels of the dungeons, slaying a basilisk and a piece of the Dark Lord preserved in an old diary with only the Sorting Hat and Fawkes to help him. For all the pain Harry had suffered during that incident and the re-aging process, the combination of powerful magic and phoenix tears had since helped to reverse the effects of years of malnutrition. Harry’s face seemed less like a carbon copy of James Potter’s now. His face was softer and slightly longer, the brilliant green eyes more almond-shaped, very much reminiscent of his best friend’s beautiful features rather than Potter’s courser ones.

Lily. 

Severus sat up abruptly, knocking the tray askew and sloshing his tea. Oh, Merlin, what would Lily say if she knew what he was planning to teach her precious son? He winced, still able to feel the right hook he’d taken all those years ago when his auburn-haired friend had found out that Severus had taken the Dark Mark. Surely she would have condemned him again, cursed him as she had before, for even contemplating this course of action. Had she known about the legend of the Divine Child? Would she have ever thought him a worthy mentor or been pleased with the bonding of their magic that Harry had accomplished?

“No!”

The strident tone of Harry’s voice startled Severus, the mug ripped out of his hand and slammed back on the tray. Looking up in surprise as he was pushed against the pillows, Severus was stunned by the anger he saw on Harry’s face and the fire in the depths of those green eyes.

“Stop whatever it is you are thinking of right now! You are not going to second-guess your decision or the promise you made me and leave me all alone!” Harry snapped, but Severus could see the unshed tears that clung to the dark lashes. “I can take the beatings, the not being allowed to eat, and even being called abnormal and a freak, but I don’t think I’ll survive if you take away the closest thing I have ever felt to being loved…”

The devastated look on Harry’s face tore at the walls he’d been trying to resurrect around his heart. “Are you sure you want this, Harry? Are you sure you want me? You know I’m not a nice man, rather on the sarcastic, cold side…”

“The side you show everyone else, but that is not the side of you that took care of me!” The emerald eyes met his, the boy kneeling beside him on the bed. “Even you said that my magic chose you, Severus, and bound us together! Please!”

Severus reached out and swept the ball of his thumb across one cheek. “It won’t be pleasant, Harry and I will be a hard taskmaster as there is much that you must learn.”

Moisture clung to the edge of Harry’s lashes as the boy crept closer. “I’ll work hard, Severus, I swear!” 

Somehow Severus knew he’d lost the argument the minute he caught the glimmer in Harry’s eyes. He had made a vow to Lily, to the boy himself, and to himself as well. Merlin knew that with Sirius Black loose, Harry needed to be protected and needed to learn to defend himself against anything. Albus Dumbledore was a master strategist, Severus knew, and he would not easily tolerate any interference with his carefully scripted plans. The Boy Who Lived was to be a major pawn in what was to come, another war that Severus would be caught in the middle of. Trepidation tore at Severus whenever he allowed himself to think about Dumbledore’s insistence that the Dark Lord was not truly dead.

Warm skin brushed against his chest as Harry hesitantly crawled up his prone form, as if he expected to be rebuffed. Mindless of the mess they were making of the tea tray which was jostling on the bed, Severus pulled Harry up onto his chest and wrapped his arms around him with a sigh. The warmth of their skin pressed together and a swirling current of magic flowed between them. Severus stroked his hand through the tousled hair as Harry nuzzled the hollow under his ear, sending a fission of feeling along his nerve endings. Harry felt it as well, his hips twitching against Severus’ stomach before he could stop the frotting with a hand lying across the lean back. They lay like that for long minutes, Severus relishing closeness he’d never felt with anyone before, including Lily.

“Severus?” Harry’s voice was muffled against his throat,

“Hmm?” 

“Voldemort isn’t truly gone, is he?” Harry asked quietly. “It was him under Quirrell’s turban first year, wasn’t it?”

Severus sighed as his hold on his Divine Child tightened. “That is what the Headmaster suspects. His body was vanquished, but somehow he was able to preserve his soul and is looking for a way to regain a corporeal body.”

Harry wiggled, his thigh slipping between Severus’ legs as he snuggled closer and Severus swallowed hard at the sensation it sparked. “Then we will have to start training right away, as Voldemort always manages to turn up when I am alone and unprepared.”

Severus closed his eyes as cold dread squeezed his heart and he rubbed his cheek against the soft hair. “And yet you have been able to escape somehow.”

“Sheer dumb luck, Professor McGonagall says.”

A smile twitched at the corner of his lips. “Then I suppose we will need to start your training immediately, won’t we.”

 

~~~*~*~~~

 

And start they did, beginning the next morning with a trip into the village. Severus insisted that Harry buy clothes that actually fit him properly, smirking over the boy’s discomfort as the proprietor’s wife measured him in much the same fashion as Madam Malkin did. A hand on Harry’s shoulder reassured him as Severus coached him into ordering what he needed. Merlin knew he would never again allow Harry to wear the cast-off rags of his wretched, obese cousin. Another conjured black hat covered Harry’s hair and what was left of the famous scar, lessening any chance of recognition as they went about their shopping. A venture into the back-room apothecary and a stop at the small bookshop where Severus put in an order for several books he felt Harry needed to study, before they started back towards the cottage.

There were many things Severus needed to teach Harry and he fell back on years of habit as he scratched out lesson plans. Severus had rather expected Harry to revert to the insolent brat he’d taught for two years, but had been pleasantly surprised by what he recognized as the boy’s true personality. It wasn’t as if their days were completely without strife, hormones and a teenaged temperament combined with his own sardonic nature guaranteed the occasional misunderstanding. The sweetness of the little boy had continued on in the youth and Severus was astounded that the years of abuse Harry had endured hadn’t embittered him like it had Severus himself. Perhaps it wasn’t too late for the older man to learn from the younger, Severus thought as he watched Harry practice wand motions for his spell casting.

Harry had been reluctant to practice any of the defensive spells Severus had started to teach him, explaining the circumstances of the prior summer and the retribution he’d paid after the warning from the Ministry. Aghast as he thought of all the magic he and Lily had done over the summer holidays when they were in Hogwarts, Severus was even more appalled to realize that the Privet Drive house had been spelled to detect any magical use. Tamping down the now familiar surge of anger as Harry told him the punishment he’d received for the magic cast by a house-elf, Severus considered swallowing a calming draught at the thought of Dumbledore’s manipulations. 

Explaining it while watched by those fearful emerald eyes was an experience that Severus didn’t want to repeat. Granted, Severus had not chosen his words as carefully as he might have done and consequently had to threaten Harry with the same calming draught as he wrapped his arms around the infuriated boy. The uncontrolled magic that swirled around them was destructive and Severus quietly talked Harry through how better to control his magic when it surged. Severus suspected there were a number of situations that Albus Dumbledore had manipulated to his own advantage where both of them were concerned and knew that this was another skill Harry needed to master quickly.

Another of the skills that Severus wanted Harry to learn immediately was the art of Occlumency. It was something Harry would need to protect himself, as Severus did, against Dumbledore’s probing long before Harry would ever need to use it against a resurrected Dark Lord. Beginning with simple meditation before bed, Severus had taken the time to explain to Harry how best to clear his mind. He could tell the boy struggled with the concept at first and had allowed Harry to lean against him as he emptied his mind, the physical contact a powerful conduit between them. The sly brat had even used it as an excused to continue to occupy Severus’ bed, not that Severus could think of any reason for Harry should not.

Severus was certain Harry’s wand had been spelled with a detector charm in case he performed under-aged magic. In the end it was their proximity to the enchanted forest that solved the problem. The formidable oaks that lined the edge of the woods seemed to part enough for Harry to discover a clearing that masked his magical signature. It was there they spent every other afternoon learning the practical application of the spells and charms Severus was teaching his young protégé. Harry seemed to flourish in the tranquil surroundings and soon learned to ignore the barbed comments Severus used to point out his flaws. Narrowed green eyes also prompted Severus to learn that a quiet word of encouragement went a long way as an incentive to Harry.

It was the night before Harry’s birthday that the relationship between them was irrevocably changed. 

Harry had spent the evening reading the book Severus had ordered from Flourish and Botts, Sacred Bonds of Boeotian Wizards. It was the closest representation of the relationship between mentor and Divine Child that Severus knew of. The ancient wizard Boeotians and Muggle Spartans had built elite armies on the same pederastical-type relationships, pairing warrior-lovers to fight side by side in battle. Severus did his best to ignore the sidelong looks Harry sent him as he worked on refining his calculations on the proportions of Silver Agave in anticipation of another round of Wolfsbane Potion brewing. Hiding a smile as Harry shifted in his seat, Severus studied him from under his lashes, delighted by the flush coloring the boy’s cheeks. This particular book had explicit descriptions of various intimate acts and Harry’s reactions were encouraging.

Sending Harry in to get ready first, Severus made sure a small window was open for the owls that would soon find their way to the cottage. Harry had described his single experience with having his birthday acknowledged the previous year and Severus truly hoped the boy’s friends would remember him again this year. An owl to Poppy Pomfrey brought several gaudily wrapped packages which Severus was careful to set on the small coffee table where Harry would see them first thing in the morning. There would be none of the midnight nonsense that Harry had spoken of doing in the past, as he had Severus now and there was no need to for a solitary celebration.

The boy appeared to be asleep when Severus silently crept into bed half an hour later, smugly anticipating the look on Harry’s face when he realized Severus had remembered his birthday. With a sigh, Severus settled into bed, a hand brushing lightly down Harry’s arm. He was pleased with their progress over the last weeks. They had been at the cottage for almost a month now, but there was still much more to do. In addition to Harry’s training, they needed to go through the formal ritual which would complete the inseparable bond between mentor and protégé. Severus just wasn’t sure Harry was ready to move into that realm. 

Just as he was sliding into slumber, a movement woke Severus. It took him a moment to figure out where the motion had come from, when a stifled gasp from Harry focused his attention. The slow slide of a hand immediately identified the activity Harry was engaging in and Severus barely contained a groan as his cock reacted instantly. He must have twitched as Harry froze and held his breath. It became readily apparent that they were at a stalemate and Severus was glad the teenager couldn’t see him roll his eyes. Idiotic Gryffindor.

Rolling onto his side, Severus brought his hand up and let his fingertips brush the warm thigh as he pulled back the sheet, moonlight spilling in through the window illuminated the pale flesh.

“Severus?” Harry’s voice broke in an oddly endearing way as he yanked his hand off his erection.

Catching the fleeing hand in his own, Severus sat up before guiding it back down towards Harry’s groin. “Did you not read the book I gave you, Harry? This is one of those lessons I am charged with teaching you when you are ready.”

He could just make out the glare in the brilliant eyes as Harry tried to tug his hand away. “I don’t want you to have to teach me!”

Stilling the hand, Severus drew it to his own cloth-covered cock and curled Harry’s fingers around him, allowing the groan caught in his throat to erupt as the grip tightened and moved. “Yes, you can no doubt tell the idea is obviously repugnant to me.”

Severus suffered through several jerky strokes, reminding himself forcefully that he was not the teenager here, before he gently unfurled the warm fingers. His cock protested the loss of the warm touch as Severus concentrated on Harry. Entwining their fingers, he cupped Harry’s balls, weighing them before drawing their hands up to curl around the eager prick. He was delighted to find that Harry’s body had matured from the de-aged little boy’s genitals and while not as large as it would be as an adult, but it was a well-proportioned, functioning cock, surrounded by a swirl of soft hair. 

Harry moaned as Severus squeezed and stroked upwards, sweeping his thumb across the head. It was all he could do not to moan himself as he spread the wetness there around the sensitive tip, before pulling the foreskin down. Scrabbling closer, Harry ended up in his lap, his back to Severus’ chest as he gripped his forearms while Severus stroked him. Legs spread over Severus’ thighs, feet tucked under his legs for a better grip, Harry arched upward, thrusting his cock into the tight grip Severus maintained on him. With his free hand Severus lightly pinched one nipple and then the other before trailing it down across Harry’s flat belly, all the while extremely conscious of his own boxer-clad erection that rubbed delightfully against the cleft of Harry’s arse. 

Rolling Harry’s balls gently, Severus sped up his strokes as Harry threw his head back against Severus’ shoulder and cried out. An unexpected amount of warmth flowed over his hand as Severus milked Harry’s cock, completely unprepared for the climax that exploded through his own body. Grinding against the firm arse nestled in his lap, Severus held Harry tightly, burying his face in the soft hair as he spilled into his pants. With a silent Scourgify Severus cleaned them up, before settling back into the bed, Harry tucked against his chest.

Severus nuzzled the sweat-damp hair cautiously; waiting for Harry to push away, but the teenager only snuggled closer, muttering, “Brilliant.” 

Smiling, Severus lightly kissed his temple. “Happy birthday, Harry.”

~~~*~*~~~

 

Twenty-four hours later they were in the enchanted forest, Severus teaching Harry how to properly harvest the Silver Agave and the other magical herbs that had to be picked at the moon’s apex. The forest itself seemed to embrace the Divine Child, the plants they needed within easy reach of the clearing. Severus could feel the weight of many watching eyes, but knew there was nothing to fear within the realm of the Oak King. A shape separated itself from the shadows cast by the moonlight and light gleamed off the golden hooves of a unicorn foal. It trotted hesitantly up to Harry as Severus sealed the dragon-skin bag filled with potion ingredients.

Shooting him an uncertain look, Harry stood still while the foal sniffed at his shirt. Severus barely contained a snort, only a Muggle-raised child wouldn’t realize the trust the herd was putting in him.

“Raise your hand slowly, Harry, and stroke its nose. Unicorns are magically powerful creatures and to have one approach you is indeed an honor.”

Harry did as he was instructed, speaking softly as the foal butted its head against his hand. “I remember what Hagrid said my first year about unicorns and how pure they are. I didn’t realize they were this friendly.”

“They aren’t,” Severus told him as he slowly moved to stand behind the teenager. “Quite the opposite, actually.” 

He nodded towards the edge of the clearing where a powerful stallion stood watching, golden horn silhouetted in the moonlight. Dropping his hand when the larger unicorn whinnied softly, Harry stepped back as the foal tossed its head before returning obediently to the herd. Severus put a hand on his shoulder as they watched the creatures melt back into the forest. Harry turned and slid an arm around his waist, pressing against him. Severus quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Is that the position I just taught you for side-along Apparation, Mr. Potter?”

“No, but I bet it will work just the same,” Harry replied cheekily and Severus sighed as he Apparated them back to the cottage. 

There was someone waiting for them as they popped into the sitting room. Albus Dumbledore sat on the couch with a cup of tea and the remnants of a piece of the birthday cake Severus had procured from the village. Harry stiffened against him, letting go but not moving away from Severus’ side. Setting the spelled bag on the floor, Severus stood tall as they watched the headmaster banish the dishes back to the kitchen.

“Ah, there you are, Severus! And Harry, my boy! You are looking hale and hearty, not worse for wear after your latest adventure, I see.” Dumbledore looked at him over the top of his half-moon glasses.

“Headmaster,” Severus acknowledged formally, checking his Occlumency barriers and hoping Harry was doing the same. “To what do we owe this unexpected late-night visit?” 

“I knew you would be gathering on the night of the full moon, Severus, and therefore it would be the perfect time to come and check on young Harry,” Dumbledore said smoothly, smiling at the boy.

Narrowing his eyes, Severus easily read the message in the manipulative bastard’s words. Dumbledore had chosen tonight believing Harry would be alone in the cottage, as he had been four weeks ago. Harry shifted next to him and Severus knew he’d deciphered it correctly as well. With smug satisfaction Severus could see that Harry was looking at the tip of Dumbledore’s hat rather than his eyes. 

“Potter had expressed his desire to see the enchanted forest by moonlight,” Severus sneered. “And I was not going to turn down a willing laborer.”

“Excellent, my boy, a nocturnal adventure to help celebrate your birthday!” Dumbledore said jovially as he sat forward to set his teacup down on the table. “I did want to give you a bit of news, Severus.”

Dumbledore stood up, shaking crumbs from his beard and brushing the front of his robes. Silently, Severus waited for whatever pronouncement the headmaster had, Harry close enough to his side for him to feel the reassurance of his body heat.

“Sirius Black was seen near Privet Drive and the Ministry…”

“How would Black know where to look, Albus?” The words hissed out from between Severus’ teeth, his anger swelling. “I was under the impression that the location of his relatives’ home was privileged information to keep Harry safe from loyal Death Eaters!”

Harry looked up at him sharply before looking at Dumbledore. “Is that why no one ever came to see me when I was little?” 

Severus laid a soothing hand on Harry’s shoulder, not surprised when the headmaster ignored the teenager’s question.

“The Ministry of Magic has insisted that Harry be protected at all times, therefore Dementors from Azkaban will be stationed around Hogwarts until such time as Sirius Black is apprehended.”

The chill of dread ran through him. Severus had been introduced to the horrific creatures that guarded the wizard prison during his thankfully short but memorable stay after the Dark Lord’s demise. There were few things in the world that were Darker than those soul-sucking monsters and the thought of them guarding an emotionally charged environment like Hogwarts was like setting wolves to guard lambs. 

“Headmaster,” Severus said as another thought occurred to him. “Harry’s magic is extremely Light, he will be more susceptible to the Dementors than most.”

“Harry notwithstanding, Severus, the decision was not mine to make,” Dumbledore told him with an apologetic smile. “Minister Fudge is quite insistent that Harry and the other students receive adequate protection. I have persuaded Remus Lupin to change his plans, so he will be arriving early for the term.”

His hand tightened on Harry’s shoulder as Severus sensed what was coming next. The smile on the powerful wizard’s face had turned patronizing as he looked between Harry and Severus.

“Remus has expressed his desire to take the responsibility for Harry off your hands, Severus, as we know how busy you are with your research, after all. And Remus is the last of James Potter’s closest friends, it only seems fitting that he mentor young Harry.”

“I don’t believe that will be necessary…” Severus began, only to have Dumbledore cut across his protest with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Nonsense, my boy, we both know how bitterly you hated James Potter. I was wrong for me even to suggest that you take this on.” 

The earnest look on the older man’s face turned Severus’ stomach, but he didn’t seem to be able to articulate his outrage. Harry had stiffened beside him as Severus struggled with his inability to get words out of his mouth.

“Head…”

“No need to thank me, Severus,” Dumbledore again cut across his efforts. “We’ll just retrieve Harry’s things and be on our way.” 

Severus found a surge of strength, hand pulling Harry closer. “Lupin’s a were…”

A gleam of triumph lit the cold blue eyes. “Remus’ unique strengths will help protect Harry better…”

“No!” 

The word exploded from the teenager with the force of a hex, causing Dumbledore to take a step back and blink with surprise. Harry leaned against Severus’ side, sliding his arm tightly around his waist.

“Severus and I have made a Boeotian Bond, Professor, and I am staying with him.” Harry’s tone was even and respectful but matter-of-fact and Severus held his breath as he felt the contained anger in his Child.

Albus Dumbledore looked at Severus sharply, eyes narrowing as they took in Harry’s stance and lingered on the proprietary hand Severus had on his shoulder.

“Severus? Is this true?” 

Severus could feel the brush of Legilimency in the eyes that focused on his. “Yes, last night at the stroke of midnight when Harry attained the proper age.”

The Headmaster’s face hardened briefly as his plans were thwarted, before it assumed its normal open, warm expression. “Excellent, my boy, I didn’t think you had it in you to persuade the boy! Congratulations, Harry, on your choice of mentor.” The warmth failed to make it to the clear blue eyes as they bore into Severus’. “I will still expect you back in residence at Hogwarts as soon as you have prepared a fresh batch of Wolfsbane Potion. Goodnight, gentlemen.”

Dumbledore was gone with a flash of garish robes, leaving Harry and Severus frozen in place. Taking a deep breath, Severus turned Harry in his arms and embraced him, not at all surprised to find the teenager shaking. His hand came up automatically to stroke the soft hair reassuringly. 

“What do we need to do?” Harry’s voice was muffled against his robes.

“We have potion ingredients to prepare and a ritual to complete,” Severus told him, tugging gently on Harry’s hair to tilt his face upward. “Then no one will ever be able to separate us.” 

~~~*~*~~~

 

The conversation Severus had been dreading since Harry had returned to his proper age started out innocently enough. Sure fingers were chopping and slicing while Severus prepared the potion base when Harry spoke quietly.

“Why did Professor Dumbledore want to give me to this Lupin bloke, Severus?” Harry asked as he continued to slice the Silver Agave.

Finishing his final anti-clockwise stir of the set, Severus gripped the crystal stirring rod tightly. Taking a deep breath, Severus attempted to order his thoughts in such a way that the loathing he felt for James Potter and Sirius Black wouldn’t color the facts of the story. His eyes focused on the gently shimmering potion. 

“Your mum and I were in the same year as Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and your father. Lily and I were friends before Hogwarts. I was sorted into Slytherin and Lily was sorted into Gryffindor along with your father, Black, Lupin, and a mousey little wizard named Pettigrew. Potter and Black were both from wealthy, pureblood families and they felt they had a fundamental right to dictate to the rest of us.”

“They were bullies, like my cousin,” Harry interjected in a sure voice.

“Yes,” Severus acknowledged, keeping a tight grip on the hatred he still felt after all these years, “and I was a favorite target, having the brass to be friends with your mother.”

“And this Lupin was part of their gang?”

Taking a moment to stir the base three times clockwise, Severus glanced over at the teenager, who sat with knife poised in his hand.

“Yes, both he and Pettigrew were taken in eventually and the pattern of behavior continued to escalate until the animosity was very much mutual, with your mother often caught in the middle. It was in our fifth year that everything began to spiral out of control.” Severus stepped away from the cauldron, not sure whether the anger bubbling up in him would affect the potion. “I had fallen into a Slytherin crowd that was supporting a wizard who promised wealth and power, and Lily hated them as they believed that Muggle-borns were inferior. It was at this same time that Potter set his sights on Lily and I was in the way. Black decided I needed to be taught a lesson and set me up to die. Your father found out and alerted the Headmaster, narrowly saving my life.”

Harry looked up in horror. “Your worst enemy?”

Nodding slowly, Severus felt something loosen in his chest. Harry understood the ramifications of what had happened; perhaps the rest would go all right.

“Afterwards, I was stupid in the way only a teenager can be and called my best friend a foul name as she attempted to defend me from yet another embarrassing attack perpetrated by your father,” Severus told him sadly. “It wasn’t long after that, without her steadying influence, that I became more and more immersed in the Death Eaters' ideology, until finally I pledged loyalty to the Dark Lord when I was only sixteen.” 

“This Dark Lord was Voldemort?” Harry asked quietly and Severus ignored the urge to snap at him.

“Yes, and I remained loyal until I overheard a prophecy that stated a boy would be born at the end of July who would defeat him.” Closing his eyes, Severus’ focus turned inward, remembering, until he felt arms slide around his waist. “I didn’t know that your mother was pregnant. When I relayed what I had heard I never for a moment imagined that the bastard would target Lily and your father.”

Severus brushed a hand awkwardly over the boy's unkempt hair before wrapping his arms around Harry. 

“That was when I went to Albus Dumbledore and begged him to protect your mum. In turn, I became his spy, reporting all I could of the Dark Lord’s plans until the day Black, your own godfather, betrayed your parents.”

Harry’s grip tightened at his revelation. “You…you weren’t…”

“No, by then my loyalty was already being questioned, as I had begged him to spare your mother.” Leaning down, Severus rested his cheek on the top of Harry’s head. “In my grief, Dumbledore had me swear an Unbreakable Vow to protect you with my very life, even though I would have anyway – you were Lily’s son.”

“Why didn’t Lupin take care of me then, if he was my dad’s best friend? Or at least come to see me when I was growing up?” Harry asked.

With a sigh, Severus straightened and tilted Harry’s face up with a finger under his chin. “I can’t truthfully answer that question and, of late, have often wondered myself. I will tell you that Remus Lupin suffers from lycanthropy - he is a werewolf. It is he and others like him who will benefit from this potion.”

The brilliant eyes studied his face. “You don’t like him very much, though, why would you want to help him, Severus?”

“Because it was Lupin who almost killed me the night your father saved me and I don’t ever want to experience anything like that again.” A touch of the old injustice seeped into his voice despite his efforts to remain unemotional; the entire conversation was setting off unpleasant feelings.

Harry’s eyes searched his face before the teenager slowly pushed himself up onto the tips of his toes as he tentatively brushed his lips over Severus’. Heat and pleasure blossomed from the slight contact and Severus slid his hand around to cup the back of Harry’s head. With light, feathering touches, he kissed Harry back, increasing the pressure slowly until the tip of his tongue slid out to taste the forbidden fruit for the first time. One of them moaned and Severus was chagrined to admit he wasn’t sure it hadn’t been him. Then Harry’s lips parted and Severus was lost as he dove into the sweetness. 

Some internal alarm brought him up for air and Severus was stunned to find he had almost missed the time to add the next critical ingredient to the potion. Keeping Harry pressed firmly against him, Severus managed, with years of hard-learned dexterity, to add the first allotment of the Silver Agave and stir it precisely twenty-eight times. Harry, it seemed, had no intention of going anywhere without him and fairly quivered against him as Severus attended to the potion. It would not do to poison the headmaster’s newest professor, Severus thought, as he lowered the flame and cast the proper monitoring spell around it.

He leaned down to kiss Harry slowly again, before straightening up. “Come, Harry, we have a cleansing to go through and then a ritual to perform.” 

They made their way to the bathroom in a comfortable silence, Harry walking in front of Severus, shooting smoldering glances over his shoulder. Severus thought the mixture of sensuality and innocence was incredibly arousing, finally coming to terms with the step their relationship had to take. The ancient bonding ritual took in the tender age of the Divine Child and called for a mixing of seminal fluids but not penetration. It would be up to Harry to choose the time for that most intimate step, but in the meantime Severus would delight in teaching him the pleasures of the male form.

Harry was already in the shower when Severus stepped in, the special cleansing potion in hand. His eyes drank in the sight of the slender limbs, the swirl of dark hair cushioning the flaccid penis and the hairless plane of Harry’s chest. Not a man yet, but certainly not a boy any longer. The green eyes seemed to smolder with an inner fire as Harry met his gaze, and Severus’ cock twitched. No one had ever looked at him with that mix of hunger and need. Severus had to swallow the lump trying to form in his throat. 

“If you will move over here, Harry, you are to wash me first and then I will wash you.” 

Severus slipped passed him to stand under the warm spray, the shiver that shook him having nothing to do with the temperature of the water. His eyes closed with the first hesitant touch of Harry’s fingers, his whole being focused on the feather-light strokes across his chest. A fingertip brushed a nipple and hesitated as Severus gasped at the sensations shooting straight to his groin. He could just imagine the impish grin as soapy hands began to stroke him in earnest, emboldened by his body’s reaction. 

Stoically Severus suffered through the slow soaping, untutored hands sliding across his abdomen, down one leg and up the other. Detecting a slight tremor as Harry slid a hand under his testicles to thoroughly, but gently lather them up, and he steeled himself for the first brush to his throbbing cock. It was torture to suffer through the light touches and tentative strokes, Severus groaning as his hips thrust despite his best efforts to stay still.

A soft laugh from Harry had him cracking open one eye against the flow of water. The sight of the teenager on his knees in front of him, hands braced on Severus’ thighs as he rubbed his nose against Severus’ straining prick almost took him to his knees. With a growl, Severus pulled Harry to his feet, kissed him soundly before turning him to the wall. 

Taking a moment to rinse the soap off him, Severus cast a cushioning charm on the tile floor and knelt on the cool tiles. Lathering up his hands, Severus treated Harry to the same light fingered torture as he washed his shoulders, arms, and back. The small noises Harry made were enticing and Severus gently massaged the perfect globes, spreading them to wash between them. Rubbing with his fingers to make sure all the soap was gone; the mewing sound Harry made had Severus leaning in and following his fingers with his tongue. Severus kept the strokes of his tongue light and brief, enough to get a taste of the teenager. 

Knowing Harry had to be even closer to coming than he was, Severus turned him around and leaned Harry back against the wall. With even strokes, Severus quickly washed the thin shoulders and chest, down his arms and then his legs. His eyes kept straying to the patch of tight curls and the hard, twitching cock that begged for his touch. Severus leaned forward and rubbed his cheek along the length, loving the groan Harry made.

“I promise you that I will introduce you to the pleasures of fellatio soon, Harry, but tonight we will need all of our essence for the ritual.” Severus told him with a hint of regret in his voice.

 

Rinsing them both thoroughly, Severus toweled Harry dry just as he had done for the de-aged toddler he had taken to protect. Emerald eyes gleamed in a face struggling to remain solemn, but the teenager’s body betrayed his enjoyment of Severus’ touch. An affectionate swat to the arse drew a yelp as Severus sent Harry into the bedroom, taking a moment to dry himself and try to rein in his own excited body. Brushing his hair, Severus then shaved by hand, another component of the ritual, as he let his mind go over what they would need to do to bind themselves in a magical bond so old it seemed to pre-date time.

The ancient Celtic languages, both written and spoken, were used in the Divine Child ritual. Severus had discovered this while going through the only book he could find on the subject. The letters were known as Ogham, often referred to as Celtic runes; they were simplistic enough and Severus ran over the configuration of long and short lines in his mind. He must remember the symbolism as well as the lines: Duir, oak, for strength and Saille, willow, for its endurance. The alphabet would spell out the words for fealty, protection and love, which was gràdh in Gaelic. Severus offered a silent prayer that he would be able to get it all right.

Harry stood beside the bed, his cock still half-hard as he waited for Severus. The small crystal vial of specially made, aromatic oil sat on the bedside table with Harry’s glasses. Severus stepped up to his Divine Child, reading the apprehension through the connection they already shared, and almost laughed. Gathering the teenager against him, Severus rubbed his cheek on the top of the damp hair until the slight tremors running through Harry stopped and he relaxed. 

“Why in Merlin’s name would you think this ritual was to be conducted with blood?”

The thin shoulders moved upwards and Severus rubbed a hand in soothing circles on Harry’s back. “There is no blood involved, my rash Gryffindor! There is but the one essence we’ll be using and I can promise you it won’t hurt.”

Harry tilted his head up and Severus could feel the uneasiness had faded as the soft lips pressed a kiss to the hollow of his throat. “All right.”

A finger under Harry’s chin brought those lips into position and Severus kissed them lightly. “You remember what you have to say?”

“Yes, Severus.” The green eyes gleamed now.

“Cheeky brat!” Severus kissed him again, harder, before stepping back and taking his hand. “If you are ready?”

Harry nodded and stood silently as Severus intoned the first phrase of the harsh-sounding Scottish Gaelic that he had learned from his mother so many years before. It was an invitation to the Oak King, the Mother Goddess, the Lord of the Wild Wood and the Lady of the Stars to be witness to their ritual. Their blessing would ensure the deep bond they were entering, the bond that would ultimately allow Harry to share Severus’ magic through the single magical core they now shared between them. A warm, swirling breeze stirred the curtains and made the tapers Severus had lit flicker. Relief flooded through him and Severus took a breath before moving to the edge of the bed, pulling Harry gently to him. Kissing him on one cheek and then the other, Severus knelt as he asked the deities in their infinite wisdom to allow one such as he to become protector-teacher to the Divine Child. The swirl of wind buffeted him, a chill to its edge, but Harry reached out and cupped a hand to his cheek, making his choice clear and the breeze settled. 

Gratefully, Severus stood up and helped Harry onto the bed. Bracing his back against the headboard, Severus settled the teenager on his lap, facing him. The emerald eyes held his as Severus looped one arm around the slender waist and reached between them. Harry retrieved the vial of oil and let three drops drip down on the tip of his cock as Severus watched. Taking Harry’s prick in his hand, Severus squeezed gently and began to stroke him as he asked for strength and guidance from the Three Kindreds in turn: the Ancestors; the Earth Spirits and the Gods. Harry’s breath quickened with each pull and he reached down to stroke Severus’ erection with his fingertips. Watching him, Severus opened his hand as Harry pressed Severus’ cock against his own, but Severus’ groan was lost in the words he was chanting. 

It didn’t take long for Harry to stiffen and Severus could feel his own impending climax. Concentrating on opening the bond they already shared, Severus was stunned for a second at the flood of emotion Harry had held tightly to his heart. He met the emerald eyes as he repeated the Gaelic words for loyalty, strength, and love. As Harry gasped, Severus stroked their cocks faster, allowing them to move against each other in a delicious slide of hot flesh on hot flesh. Splaying his legs, he laid Harry on his back just as the boy's hips bucked and the teenager came. Angling them both towards Harry’s stomach, Severus added his seed to Harry’s, milking their cocks for a moment.

Harry’s eyes never left him as Severus took a deep breath and then leaned over him. With the tip of his finger, Severus mixed the semen together and still chanting in Gaelic, began to draw the symbols of the words he was saying. Starting on Harry’s chest, on the skin over his rapidly beating heart, Severus anointed Harry with their essence. The runes began to warm on Harry’s skin, turning it pink before being absorbed. Three times, Severus repeated the action and was almost done when Harry reached out to dip his finger into the cooling pool. Severus stiffened; this was where Harry was supposed to accept his vow of fealty. Even as Severus finished the last series of symbols, Harry reached up to draw hesitantly over Severus’ heart as he stumbled through the ancient language and said the phrase of acceptance. 

As he did, Harry spelled out a single word in Ogham - gràdh. 

It burned into Severus’ skin with a pleasant heat and thawed the last bit of ice from Severus’ soul. 

Golden light burst around them and Severus instinctively threw himself over Harry. A flash of heat suffused them both and once again Severus didn’t know where he started and Harry ended; their minds, hearts and souls merging with a light caress before separating again. When Severus was able to focus outward again, the room was dark and they lay entwined on the bed. Although he was a separate entity again, Severus was very aware of Harry. He could feel the pull of each breath and the reassuring beat of his Child’s heart. Severus could also feel the peace in Harry’s soul, something it had never felt before.

Harry stirred against him and Severus pulled him up to lie across his chest as he had done that first night. He could feel the smile on Harry’s face as he nuzzled Severus’ throat.

“Are you all right?” His voice was husky with the emotion he didn’t know how to admit to.

“I’m more than all right.” Harry said sleepily. “I’ve never felt so free before. Thank you for chasing the loneliness from my heart, Severus. I think I could face anything now, with you beside me.”

Severus put what he was feeling into a soft kiss. 

~~~*~*~~~

 

Epilogue: Three and a half years later

With a sigh, Severus entered the rooms he shared with Harry, tossing his cloak over the back of his chair. The Hogwarts Express had gotten a late start due to the blinding snowstorm that had whipped up overnight. For those who would celebrate the solstice, they would only just arrive in time. Severus smiled as he thought of the start of Yule and his Harry’s enthusiasm for this year’s celebration after vanquishing the last of the Dark Lord’s Horcruxes a month prior. 

A shiver ran down his spine as he remembered the harrowing race to destroy the Resurrection stone in Slytherin’s ring. In the course of the fight, the head of the…of Voldemort’s loyal followers, Peter Pettigrew, who was consequently the latest wizard to host the evil one’s ethereal form, killed himself by attempting to use his master’s wand. Harry’s godfather had been exonerated, although he was still an arrogant bastard as far as Severus was concerned, even if Lupin had become somewhat tolerable.

“Severus?”

Harry’s voice floated out from the bedroom they had shared since the night after the ritual which cemented the bond between their magic and their souls, and somewhere along the way, Severus’ heart as well. His bonded was still a cheeky, impertinent brat at times, just as Severus was as sardonic and snarky as ever, but here in the privacy of their rooms they could drop the masks they wore for the public. On Harry’s coming of age, they had gone through a civil union so that not even the Ministry of Magic could ever separate them. His lips curled upwards, fingers already working the buttons of his high-collared robes as Severus stepped into the darkened room. And stopped short.

There propped up against the headboard of their bed, lay a very naked Harry Potter. The light from the flickering fire danced across his creamy skin in golden highlights, emphasizing the sixteen-year-old’s athletic build. Feet planted on the bedding, knees splayed open, Severus watched, mesmerized as one hand stroked his hard prick as the other hand pushed into his arse in slow deliberate strokes, fucking himself. Severus didn’t even try to stop the moan that tore from him, his own cock already hard and throbbing at the sight.

“I wanted to be ready for you.” The emerald eyes blazed.

Severus banished his clothing and climbed up from the end of the four-poster, stopping to nip and lick his way up Harry’s legs to his inner thighs. Pressing his legs further apart, Severus kissed the tip of Harry’s cock, drawing the tip of his tongue down the thickly veined underside. Gently, he stopped to gently suck one testicle and then the other into his mouth, before tilting Harry’s hips high. The fingers had slowed their motion, but sped up again as Severus lapped at the sensitive skin around them, loving the keening sound Harry made when he was incredibly aroused. 

“Oh gods, Severus! Please! Fuck me!” Harry pleaded with him, pressing against Severus’ furrowed tongue. 

The jar of lubricant Severus had brewed for them was pushed into his hand. Gently pulling Harry’s fingers out, Severus pressed a last kiss to the well-stretched hole. Gingerly coating his throbbing erection, Severus guided himself to Harry’s entrance and slid easily past the ring of muscles. Strong legs wrapped around him as Severus rocked slowly back and forth, pressing forward until he was completely encased in the velvety heat. Panting, Severus braced on his arms and leaned down to kiss his lover hungrily.

“Severussss.” 

His name left Harry’s lips like a sibilant whisper as Severus pulled back, pushing the taut thighs up to Harry’s chest and began to thrust into him in slow, deep strokes. Unsatisfied with Severus’ slow torture, the brat opened the bond, sharing the sensation of Severus thrusting into him. Then Harry clenched the muscles around his cock. The sensual overload caused made him lose control and Severus pounded into his love. His climax slammed into him, pushing Harry over the edge as well. When he could get his breath back, Severus would smirk at that – generally it was Harry coming that finished him.

“A Blessed Yule, Severus.”

Severus smiled, burying his nose in the damp mop of hair. “It is you who have blessed me, my beloved. You have completely bewitched my mind and ensnared my senses.”

Harry chortled softly against his throat. “And you love me for it.”

“Indeed, my cheeky brat, indeed.”


End file.
